


My Call To Arms, My Muse

by DrRatbag



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Coping Mechanisms, Fluff, Healthy Coping Mechanisms, Idiots in Love, Jealous Enjolras, Love Confessions, M/M, Road Trips, Shower Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, So much smut, Too Much Sex Help Me, Weddings, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-06-09 03:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 24,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6887515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrRatbag/pseuds/DrRatbag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre and Courf are getting married in SF and Enjolras and Grantaire are idiots who miss flights, so they have to drive.<br/>Along the way, feelings are left unchecked and lots of nice and a little not nice stuff happens as a result.<br/>I just need these two to feel the love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Everyone saw Combeferre and Courfeyrac's engagement coming. They'd been dating since first year of college and now that they were both 26, gainfully employed and more or less settled in life, Combeferre had decided to (try to) make an honest man of Courfeyrac.  
They decided they didn't want a long engagement, they just wanted to get married, but there was one stipulation on Courfeyrac's part, they had to get married in San Francisco so that his parents (who were both elderly and not really able to travel) could attend. This was a very reasonable and very thoughtful idea, they only problem being that they were all living in New York.  
The gang decided to all fly out together, spend a week in San Francisco together, and celebrate the wedding. A holiday with a big party at the end- sounded like just what everyone needed.  
Combeferre chose Enjolras as his best man by dramatically proposing to him in a restaurant and embarrassing the crap out of Enjolras so that he left Combeferre cakcling on the floor of the restaurant and texted him later saying "Also: congratulations, and yes I will be your best man", which was really quite warm for him.  
Courfeyrac thought proposing to his best man sounded excellent, so he copied his fiancée and proposed to Grantaire, drunk, in the middle of the musain. Grantaire started crying (where did he learn to cry on command?) and stage-kissed Courfeyrac, lifting him up and carrying him dramatically out of the musain to cheers and wolf-whistles from his friends. He was chased by Combeferre who wanted his fiancée back, and Joly who was worried about an accident and dutifully waved his first aid kit at them.  
Enjolras and Grantaire, being the best men, were obviously both expected at the wedding. However, they both had work when the original party was flying out, and so had agreed to travel out together the next day. And so it was that Enjolras and Grantaire found themselves heading towards the airport to catch a flight together.

 

 

Very dry setup but it'll get better, I swear.


	2. Chapter 2 - Enjolras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just the first chapter, I don't know what to tell you  
> From E's POV

It is disgustingly early and I've only got three cups of coffee (not counting that mocha because that's only _half_ coffee), which is my entire excuse for looking like shit.

I'm not fishing for compliments here, I'm being honest. My hair is twice as big as it usually is, mad curls all over the shop, I think I slept in this t-shit (yeah, I just checked, I definitely did), and I'm wearing my old jeans and ratty converse. You know on an airplane there's two groups of travellers; those who are dressed up to shit and are obviously buzzing to fly, and the other group who look like they've just been dragged through a bush backwards and then had half their blood drained? I fit snuggly into that second group.

Fuck R for choosing the early flight. He _knows_ I'm not a morning person, everyone knows, it's common knowledge.  
Or maybe he doesn't. Does he really know so little about me that he'd think this would suit me? I'm not sure why, but that stings, so I'm going with the version of the story where R's an antagonistic jackass, which is accurate. Shit, there he is.

R's sauntering towards me, looking better than anyone has a right to this early in the morning. His wild hair is bed-heady and looks positively indecent, and has a pair of sunglasses perched on the top, looking like the hair might swallow them whole any second. His eyes are bright and playful, which means he's a morning person or he's had more coffee than me. He's got one of those tighttighttight white t-shirt spattered with paint and ink and god-knows-what and it's stretched in an unholy manner accros his broad shoulders and- fuck, just it's tight, okay?  
Although R's an undeniably attractive guy, I mean just look at that, the sexiest thing in the universe is right there, right in his hand. He's holding two massive cups of coffee in his hand, and the grin spreading across his face tells me he knew I'd need at least one of those. We can wrestle over the other one. Fuck. Blame the caffeine-deprivation for my unchecked thoughts.

"Morning sunshine! You look glorious, you look like the sun himself, or golden Persephone in this spring sunshine. Am I your Hades then? This coffee your pomegranate? Do you dare bit the fruit, Enjolras?" Grantaire's smirk grows as his rambling continues, as he gets nearer and nearer. I'm ashamed of it, but my hands are already grabbing for the coffee, like a dumb little raccoon.  
"Grantaire! You're a lifesaver! Thank you!" It's a well known fact that plying me with coffee will produce an agreeable and non-argumentative version of me for as long as the coffee lasts. It's so well known that I almost never need to pay for my own coffee in the company of friends. Which is wonderful  
"Wow, remind me to buy you coffee more often" See what I mean?  
"I'd be delighted if you did. Now, when's our flight?"  
"9:30, we'd better head to security, unless you're putting any baggage in the hold?"  
"Nope, I'm good to go"  
"Aw, look at you, wee boy scout"  
I can't even reply snarkily to this because the coffee is warm in me and I'm too happy that Grantaire got my milk and sugar ratio right. We start heading up and Grantaire starts telling me about Courfeyrac's bachelor party and explaining how conniving he had to be get Courf out of jail. It's actually really pleasant, and I'm thinking about today, looking forward to maybe getting to know R a bit better, and then seeing our friends later. I haven't had a holiday in **aaages** and this one is way overdue. I'm pretty happy actually, pretty content.

Which is why it should be no fucking surprise that we miss our goddamn flight because of fucking **airport security and their INABILITY TO RESPECT PRIVACY AND LISTEN TO THEIR PASSENGER'S REASONABLE REQUESTS**


	3. Chapter 3 - Grantaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've missed their flight and whatnot

I should have gone on my own. Or put a muzzle on Enjolras.

We're currently standing outside the airport, waiting on a taxi, and I swear steam is coming from Enjolras' ears. I would have thought being put on a no fly list for refusing to open his laptop would have been a mark of pride for him. Or having reflexes so sharp he kicked a member security personel in the face. He can be proud of it later, first we need to get back to one of our apartment's and figure out what to do. And probably pick up a very strong coffee for E along the way.

I turn round to him when it's our turn to get a taxi, and I've known Enjolras for long enough to know how to handle him angry. I place my hand under his elbow and guide him into the taxi, tell the driver my address, and then pull him close and card my fingers through his wild blonde hair until he's stopped grumbling under his breath. I listen to his breathing and when he's started to slow down and breathe more evenly, I sigh with relief. (But I don't remove my hand from his hair, what the fuck is this made from pure silk or something?)

"Enjolras?"  
Enjolras humms against my chest, which I nearly melt at, but pull myself together and try to be the coherent one here  
"So I don't know about you, but I don't have enough money for a second flight"  
Enjolras stiffens, and tries to move away, but I hold on tight and keep sifting my fingers through his curls  
"And I was thinking maybe we should just drive? I've got enough petrol in the tank and in the boot and enough money for some extra gas along the way, plus I've got some stellar music in the car"  
"Grantaire, what would happen with you and me stuck in a car together for three or more days?"  
"Well, we're doing ok now aren't we? We'd just have to bring a thermos full of coffee and keep it topped up" I was joking about that last bit, but Enjolras nods enthusiastically  
"Um. Ok, yeah, ok. I _do_ want to get to the wedding, and I suppose the chances of a double homicide along the way are relatively slim"  
"We've had six years of this, if there was going to be a murder, there would have been one by now." Enjolras hums and I keep talking to keep from turning into a Grantaire puddle in the back seat of this taxi, which I imagine would be a bitch to clean up "So how about we grab two travel mugs of coffee from my flat and head off when we get back?"  
'Yeah, ok. Let's do it"

We spend the rest of the drive to my flat (only about 10 minutes or so) in relatively silence, Enjolras sings along to the radio sometimes and it's a weird kind of peaceful. If the road is like this, I might never want to stop driving.  
We jump out of the taxi, pay the driver, and head upstairs to grab my keys and some road trip essentials (coffee, snacks and music). Enjolras also grabs some books from my bookshelf, saying he's going to read to me if I get too boring for him to bear. Rude. I laugh anyway and help him pick, because he has questionable taste sometimes, and sure enough he's picked up two murder mysteries about people being murdered in cars or on roadsides already  
"Enjolras, no"  
"What? They're thematic"  
"Put them down, my car, my rules"  
"Wow, didn't know you were a dictator, Grantaire, I'm going to need to re-evaluate our friendship" He puts the books back on top of the bookcase and I realise I've got a few new ones that I'd forgotten to give him  
"Wait, Enj, I've got a few from the shop that I thought you'd like"

I work at a weird little bookshop that seems to only have one copy of every book, and I never see any delivered. It's one of those places that looks like the books might be there for decoration alone, but I know that the owner, Musichetta, knows where every single book is and can tell you the plot, strengths and weaknesses of each one. It's a fun little job, because I get to develop my tase for books, and I get to hang out with 'Chetta, and it helps pay the bills.  
The thing is though, that when I'm curating the books, organising them (somewhat) and finding them for customers, sometimes certain books just leap out at me, and scream "Buy me, Enjolras will love me". Enjolras' love for literature is indiscriminate and unparalleled. His flat is covered head-to-toe in all manner of books, and I firmly believe that to say he spends half his income on books would be very conservative.  
I love finding books for Enjolras, because as far as I know, my recommendations always go down well, and Enjolras looks stunningly human with his reading glasses half way up his nose, buried in a book as though it is a barrier to the outside world and he would not cross it for anything.  
These new books I've found for Enjolras might be my finest selection, so I'm glad he might read me them on our trip.  
I found a very strange selection of short stories about an elderly lady detective who works primarily with her cat, a beautifully bound novel about tribal warfare and a love story between two members of enemy tribes in Kenya, and an account of the pre-war suffragette movement recounted through the journal of a woman who was involved.  
I pass my offerings over and wait for their appraisal.

Enjolras in thought is magnificent. His eyebrows furrow in the more adorable way, the lines of his face pulled together in concentration. He sometimes bites his lower lip lightly, which is extrememly distracting, and often tosses his hair intermittently, like a fidgety pony. Enjolras in thought is rivalled only by the pleased expression that smoothes its way across his features as he finds himself pleased, I think, with what I've presented.  
"Grantaire" His voice is slow and quiet and awed, and I would listen to Enjolras saying my name over and over infinitum if I could.  
"Do you like them?" I'm rewarded with Enjolras' delighted smile, and with sparkling eyes darting up to me, he starts  
"I'm going to read you the short stories first, and then I think I'll move onto the sufragette one, but since we're bound to arg-"  
"Enjolras, we should probably tell our friends that we're driving up, and then we should get going"  
"Ah. Right. Of course" Enjolras sounds a little... dejected? Does that make sense? Well I've got three days at least in a car with him to figure him out, maybe I'll understand him better by the end of this.  
"Not that your reading plan doesn't sound great, I'd just like to get started with it as soon as we can"  
This must have been the right thing to say, because Enjolras grins again and pulls his phone out of his pocket, moving away towards the door and grabbing his bag with him. I shake my head in an effort to arrange my thoughts (to no avail) and rush after him, grabbing the keys, my bag, and both our coffee-filled travel mugs.

I'm nearly out the door when I stop and realise what's happening. I'm going on a road trip with Enjolras. I'm going to be in a confined space with the man I'm in love with for three days.   
I try to put together some rational thoughts, and plan ahead for a moment. I walk over to my desk, pull a dark blue notebook from it, shove it in my hoodie pocket, and head down to join Enjolras.


	4. Chapter 4 - Enjolras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the roaaadddd

We've been on the road for all of half an hour the first time I consider just opening the door and jumping out.  
Grantaire was not kidding about "my car, my rules" when it comes to music, and is currently blasting the Wicked soundtrack and singing along. He's belting out 'Popular' (actually surprisingly well) and he's directing all of the lines to a tamagotchi that's hanging from his rear-view mirror. This sounds like I'm recounting a weird dream I had, but this is genuinely happening.  
Slowly, I pull out my phone and start filming as subtly as I can. I've got about 3 minutes and 'As Long As You're Mine' has just started. As he sings "Kiss me too fiercely, hold me too tight", his voice is suddenly filled with emotion, the passion in it is paralysing, and I'm just sitting there, staring at him. He notices this after a second and turns to look at me, blushing. Then he notices the camera pointed in his face  
"Hey!" He shouts, laughing as he does, and lunging for the phone  
"Nu-uh, that's my footage now"  
"Ugh, promise me you won't use it for some nefarious purpose?"  
"You sing beautifully Grantaire, maybe I'll just use it as my ringtone" I'm not entirely joking, and Grantaire seems to pick up on this, as he glances round at me, caught off-guard. He smiles shyly and shrugs his shoulders  
"I like singing, it's a good way to express yourself, and it brings other people happiness. It makes showers more interesting"  
"You sing in the shower? Can I request songs when we're sharing motel rooms?"  
Grantaire starts laughing and nods. He's not singing anymore, but his fingers are drumming the steering wheel and he's humming along contentedly. I shouldn't have spoken, shouldn't have disturbed the peace  
"I've never actually seen Wicked" this was a mistake, because Grantaire's pulled from his reverie and nearly drives us off the road  
"WHAT?"  
"Jesus, Grantaire, be careful!"  
Grantaire rights the car and keeps driving, but now he's staring at me as if I kicked a puppy in front of him.  
"Try not to kill me on this journey"  
"Not my fault you can't drive. Or that you having a gaping musical-shaped hole in your heart"  
I scoff and roll my eyes, but I can't help but smile at him. R's not hugely into musicals, but it's understood that Wicked is his all-time favourite. I've heard him mention Elphaba being his spirit animal, but if I'd be willing to bet that's just because her skin is green and he's a bit jealous.  
He turns his eyes back to the road and starts a list out-loud of reasons why I have to see Wicked before I die, and I remember how much I like just listening to him ramble. He's wonderfully content like this, just letting out a stream of consciousness, and I wish I could record him talking so I can play it when I'm bored, but even I know that would be next-level creepy.  
Another song has come on, and R is drumming his fingers on the wheel enthusiastically and whistling along. The window's rolled down and his glasses are on, and in the bright sunshine he looks like an advert for road trips. He looks beautiful. My eyes travel back to his hands, and are drawn to the watercolour semicolon tattoo on his wrist, as I remember when he explained it to me. As far as I'm aware, I'm the only person in our friend group who knows why R has this tattoo, which makes me feel warm and cosy inside for reasons I don't understand and don't want to explore.

Once, when R was drunk and alone, he ended up crashing at my place after one of Courfeyrac's parties. R decided to take of his shirt and start explaning his tattoos, which, I was definitely ok with. He explained a few of the patterns as "and this one is **nice** so there's that", and choked up when he started explaining the symbols that represented his friends, and then he stopped at a small tattoo on his wrist. It was a simple semicolon (;) tattoo, sitting next to the end of his radius.  
He spent a few moments just running his finger over the ink, and after a moment, having had a little too much to drink myself, something possessed me to reach forward and press my thumb to it. His eyes shot up to me, and he looked terrified, but I wanted to know what it meant to him  
"Grantaire. Tell me" I tried to say this as softly as I could manage, and it seemed to work, because he started to look less cagey and threatened. Eventually, he sighed heavily, and I involuntarily wound my hand around his wrist  
"Well, you know I've never had exactly sparkling mental health" I nodded, trying to look empathetic "and a few years ago I had a pretty rocky period, which landed me in hospital with 50+ tablets in my stomach and a gaggle of concerned-looking mental health workers standing round my bed looking at copies of my chart" Grantaire sighed heavily and leaned in to me. I didn't want to rush him, or interrupt him, because looking at him, it was as if the words were clawing at his throat, fighting to stay inside.  
"That was rock bottom for me. I realised that I didn't ever want to go back there, and that I was going to have to fight so goddamn hard if I wanted to beat this. Get my black dog on a leash" He huffed a laugh, but it's not a real Grantaire laugh, it was hollow and didn't accompany a cheeky grin and sparkling eyes. He looked like he was in agony reliving it, and I couldn't, and still can't, pretend to understand what that was like for him, but I hate seeing him like this, and I desperately want to help, to shoulder some of this burden for him.  
In that moment, looking at Grantaire, I saw this remarkable person, curled up in me and looking so much more delicate and fragile than I'd ever seen him. I tried to think about my life without R, without his terrible puns, his sparkling wit and charm, everything from his apologetic grin when he's late to the bizarrely on-point book selections he makes. And I can't help but pull Grantaire tight to my chest and pressing a kiss to his hair  
"Grantaire, I care about you so much it hurts. My life without you would be so dark and dull, and I know how terrifying your illness must be for you, but if you let me, I swear I will try to protect you. I want to keep you safe R, because I need you" I move my head back down to look at R, and he's smiling softly, and has tears welling up in his eyes, that I move my hand to brush away  
"Let's go to sleep, ok?" R just nods, leans up, and presses a kiss to my cheek  
"Thank you, Enjolras"

I don't think R remembers that conversation, because the next day he couldn't even remember getting into my spare pyjamas, or me curling around him as if trying to protect him in our sleep. I definitely remembered though, because after he left that day, I got my shit together and realised that not being there for R at his lowest points would always be one of my greatest regrets, although I understand no-one else knew what happened.  
I wanted to offer support and help for Grantaire and people with similar difficulties on campus, and I wanted him to know that I value and cherish him. God, I do. Sometimes when I lose momentum or motivation in my work, I think about R and how pointless everything would seem without him.  
We've never had a direct conversation about why I set up our university's mental wealth group, or why he's always been roped into poster design, party plans, and always, _always_ put in charge of our puppy days.   
Sometimes, we get therapy dogs onto the campus and have chill out spaces with students and the dogs, because there's pretty good research about the therapeautic effect of petting dogs. I know that this is something Grantaire loves to do because he adores dogs and always books the first slot. And the posters he designs for the puppy days are always incredible, so I know he pours his enthusiasm into them. I haven't been caught yet, but I love to come and just watch him running around, organising and helping and playing with the dogs, he just looks so happy to be helping and I feel so warm and happy when I see him like that.

I'm thinking about our last puppy day, when I saw R taking one of the golden labs onto the quad for a break, and just lying down in the grass next to the dog, singing quietly to the dog and himself, when I realise R's clicking his fingers in front of my face, waving and asking if I'm ok.  
"Enjolras! I've been saying your name for like five minutes, what's up?"  
"Hmm? Oh, I was thinking about the puppy days" R breaks into a shy smile, tries valiantly not to let it overtake his face, but I can see the corners of his lips creeping up  
"You always do an excellent job, Grantaire, they always go so well"  
"Well, they wouldn't happen without you"  
"Nor you"  
"Nah, you'd find someone else to do it"  
"Grantaire." I wait until he looks at me "Someone else could do it tolerably well, but you excell. You have no idea how amazed I am after every one of those days, by your committment and your enthusiasm. You're wonderful at it. Give yourself the credit" Grantaire blushes heavily and tightens his hands on the steering wheel  
"Thanks"  
"No problem" I pause momentarily, thinking about whether I should show my hand, "Grantaire?" He turns his head, his face is open and curious, and I'm struck by the urge to reach my hand out and tuck a stray curl behind his ear  
"I just want you to know how important you are to me. You're essential. Do you believe me?" His features soften, and his eyes go watery for a moment. Then he blinks and reaches a hand across to clash mine  
"I do. Thank you" I stroke my thumb across his tattoo and thank whatever god there is that he's here with me.


	5. Chapter 5- Grantaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bates Motel

It's getting pretty late, and I hate driving in the dark, especially with precious cargo. I suggest pulling in at the next motel we see and Enjolras yawns live a big cat, which I take as assent. He only have to drive for about 15 miles before we find a tiny motel and gas station just off the road. I gratefully pull the car over and Enjolras closes the book he'd been reading aloud (the old lady and cat detective duo one), slides his glasses off his nose (woe), and climbs out of the car.  
Sometimes I wonder how Enjolras gets about without tripping over his limbs more often. They're unreasonably long, his legs stretching out in front of him. As if on cue, he stops and twists and stretches for a moment, baring enough skin to make me fidgety  
"You done with the acrobatics?"  
"Hey, we've been on the road for hours, I can't exactly do yoga in the car, can I?"  
We head to the reception of the motel, and the are greeted by one of the creepiest guys I've ever encountered. He's putting pieces into a jigsaw puzzle of what looks like a Rembrandt maybe? I cough about three times to try to get his attention, and on the third he looks up at me and then returns to his jigsaw. I stare at Enjolras in confusion and he arches an eyebrow and rings the bell. Bizarrely, this succeeds in getting the guy's attention.  
"Hello gentlemen, how may I assist you this fine evening?" Ugh, I have to physically repress a shudder at his weird creepy voice. Get me out of here  
"Hi! Yes, can we have a room for two?" Enjolras is all bright and polite in the face of our would-be murderer, and I'm astounded yet again by his game face. The man grumble under his breath and gets us a key. Money is exchanged and we get the hell out of dodge.  
As soon as the door shuts behind us, I let out the shudder I've been keeping in and Enjolras bursts out laughing  
"You should have seen your face! I've never seen you look more horrified!"  
"Enjolras, that guy is probably the inspiration for Norman Bates, he's the chairman of the creepy motel owners association, he's the poster boy for murderers anonymous"  
"R, Norman Bates only murdered young, attractive women, be serious"  
"Two out of three's good enough, you're a target" As soon as I've said this, I cringe. Cringe at my cheesiness and my loose lips. Thank god I've never served in the navy  
"What?" Enjolras has frozen mid-motion, and is blinking rapidly at me. Because I'm a dickhead, I just grin and spread myself on one of the beds languidly. But because I'm only selfless with Enjolras, I take the single as opposed to the double. He notices.  
"Hey, why are you taking that bed? You're welcome to the double, it's not an issue"  
"Exactly, it's not an issue, so don't make it one." Enjolras grumbles and grabs some shower stuff from his bag, waves it in the air as a form of communicating his plan, and heads into the bathroom. I try valiantly to keep my thoughts squeaky clean.  
In an effort to keep my mind on the straight an narrow, I try to make the room a little less horrifying. I head out to the gas station which has a tiny shop attached, buy some coffee (there's a kettle in the motel, thankfully) with milk and sugar, pick some flowers by the side of the road, and head back to the room.  
My first act is locking the door and pushing a chair up against it, just in case. Then I pull a small bag out of my rucksack. It's just got little things I like to keep to hand, like selotape, ribbons and string. Stuff like that. I use some of the ribbons to tie the weird old curtains back from the window, use the string to tie the flowers together in a messy arrangement and place them in a glass that I put on the table in between the beds. I tidy up a little, getting the spare pillows and blankets from the cupboard and building a nest on my bed. Then I put my phone in a glass and play some twinkly piano tracks from it. It's kind of homey by the time Enjolras gets out of the bathroom, and he's a vision.  
He's glowing, and looks warm and cuddly. His hair is drying remarkably quickly, already springing up from where the water sought to stick it to his face and head and neck, defying gravity. He looks around the room and then to me, and he has this unreadable look on his face as he choses some pyjamas and goes back into the bathroom to change. Shame. At the least, he could have left the towel on. Watching beads of water rolling down his neck, his chest, ending their journey in that towel that hung precariously on his hips, I would be content to watch that show for a good few hours. Although, when he emerges wearing plaid pyjama trousers and an old white t-shirt, his hair barely towel-dried, he looks so soft and precious. I'm stuck staring for a moment, but when I'm no longer made of stone, I reach for the book of detective stories on the bedside table and beckon for Enjolras to join me. I'm not really a pyjamas person, so I'm just wearing boxers and a t-shirt from this mental wealth event Enjolras and I organised last year.  
Enjolras' activity with promoting mental health and supporting people like me around campus was the nail in the coffin for me. I didn't think I could possibly have fallen more in love with him, but that show of unadulterated support and care nearly killed me. Most of my close friends know I've got a few cats in my bag, but no one really knows the details. Sometimes I catch Enjolras looking at me, I think he already knows. Like he feels it intuitively or something. It's so comforting having someone you feel like you don't need to explain yourself to, who will just get it without you needing to say a word.   
Miraculously, Enjolras pads over to me and curls up on my makeshift nest. He utilises my chest as a pillow, and I take this as a cue to start reading where he left off. I can hear his steady breathing, and when he stops intejecting or laughing along, and starts curling into me more emphatically, I know he's fallen asleep.  
I **have** to take a moment to look down and memorise what sleeping Enjolras looks like. Then I close the book, drop it next to me, and pull Enjolras into me. That's how I fall asleep, with an armful of my golden god.


	6. Chapter 6 - Enjolras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras wakes up in the middle of the night and slinks off to his own bed

When I wake up, I'm enveloped by warmth, and my first instinct is to cuddle closer into it. I then realise that the source of my warmth is breathing softly and moving slightly. I look up, and see Grantaire. His hair has fallen over his face, and in repose, he looks so relaxed and so untroubled. His heavy arms are wound around me, shielding me. I reach up to brush some of his hair from his eyes, and then I notice where my book had fallen next to him, after he had been reading it to me, and suddenly I'm a little embarrassed. Although this is probably the most comfortable I've been in years, I have a feeling that R intended this platonically, and my feelings in this moment have veered dramatically from the course. It feels like a violation to be in his space dishonestly, like I've tricked him into giving me this. I slide out of the warmth of his arms and reluctantly into my own bed. It's cold and unyielding in contrast, and I fall asleep staring at R and the rise and fall of his chest, counting my breaths with his.

~  
I'm in the shower, basking in the warmth and humming quietly as I reach for the shower gel, which is strawberry scented and just makes showers feel fun. I hear a noise from behind the shower curtain, but dismiss it as my imagination. I'm pouring out the gel and rubbing it on my shoulders when the curtain is yanked back, and all I see is the gleam of the knife coming towards me before I start screaming  
~

I wake up screaming, sitting straight up in bed, still on my own. I'm shaking and I can't seem to control myself because that was a fucking terrifying nightmare. I look around and it's still night-time: the clock on top of the TV says it's 4 in the morning. Guiltily, I glance over at Grantaire, who's also sitting up, looking at me with great concern  
"Enjolras? Did you have a nightmare? Are you ok?" His voice is rough and scratchy from sleep, and while I do find it comforting, find _him_ comforting, I can't stop shaking. I've never been good with nightmares, I used to get them really badly as a kid, but not so much now. This one's just come at an inopportune moment. At home, I'd get up, make a tea, and do some work. I can't do that here, and the shaking doesn't stop. I ache for some form of comfort, and I turn back to R  
"R, could you-" I've gotten that much out before I realise R's gotten up and is sliding into my bed, pulling my back into his chest and pressing a gentle kiss to my ear. I sigh heavily and hold onto him where he's wrapped his arms around my waist  
"Thank you" I feel foolish for needing this, but I know Grantaire would never say as much. Instead, he starts quietly singing a lullaby in my ear, his smooth voice crackling a little with sleep, and it's so soothing that my eyelids are closing against my will within minutes.

I wake up uncharacteristically early and I swear I haven't felt this content in forever. There's sunlight streaming through the windows in bars, highlighting specks of dust in the air, and I'm surrounded by warmth and strength and Grantaire's familiar scent. I feel so comforted and so safe, with R's arms looped around my waist and one of his legs thrown over mine. I try to move closer into the warmth of his embrace and then I realise that I'm in a somewhat... unfortunate situation.  
Embarrassingly, I've woken up pretty hard, which obviously is a normal thing, but I suddenly feel like I'm violating his space and his trust, taking advantage of a comforting gesture and warping it into what I want it to be.  
Reluctantly, I pull away from R's arms and decide that I need to take a walk, calm myself down. Setting myself to go get some breakfast, I remove the chair from the door, unlock it, and right before I leave, I turn to look back at Grantaire. He's curled himself up in the space I've left residual body heat, and he looks peaceful and incandescent in the early morning light. Before I can stop myself, I cross the room and place my palm to his cheek, and he makes a soft noise and moves towards the touch. I catch my breath and stand, stuck, for a moment before I pull myself together, turn to the door, and leave without looking back.  
It turns out the gas station has some breakfast stuff, like croissants and cereal, and I know R bought some milk. I gather my purchases and go for a little walk. I don't want to pull R unwillingly from his reverie unless I absolutely have to. It would be sacrilege to wake him after seeing him soft and sleepy earlier.  
There's a small wooded area behind the motel, and I head towards it and decide to get some flowers like R got, for the road, for fun. I start on my meandering walk and think about R, and how weird and good these last 24 or so hours have been. I dedicate myself to not thinking about how strong and solid he felt wrapped around me, or how much I want to breathe in his scent until I choke. Or how his hair is wilder and massive in the morning, suggesting he actually tames it somewhat day-to-day.


	7. Chapter 7 - Grantaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire wakes up and Enjolras is gone

When I start to wake up, I'm warm and comfy and happy. I stretch my arms and legs and yawn loudly, taking advantage of the space on the bed. Then I slowly realise I shouldn't be the only person occupying this space.  
I shoot up and stare around the room for Enjolras, and not finding him, I get up and check the bathroom. He's not there either. Maybe he left a note. If he did, it's not one I can find. I start to panic a little, thinking maybe something's happened, maybe the motel owner really was a creepy dangerous guy- but how would he get in? My eyes dart to the door, and I find that it's no longer got a chair pressed up against it, and it's not locked anymore. So Enjolras must have left.  
Obviously.  
Obviously he left.  
I sit down on the bed again at this realisation. That Enjolras, like everyone else who ever got this close, has packed up and gotten the hell out of dodge. I know I'm not the greatest guy in the world, but sometimes I wonder what it is exactly that makes me so repulsive that anyone who gets close has to completely erase themselves from my live. Am I that unbearable that they can't even say goodbye? Can't even give me a reason for ducking out? I feel like I'm owed an explanation.  
Maybe I violated his space. Maybe he felt like I was crossing the boundaries and wanted to make it clear, once and for all, that he did not want me close to him, and that this road trip, and our friendship, is just a means to an end, and I have to stop getting caught up in my feelings.  
My thoughts easily lead me down this path, telling me awful things about myself, suggesting to me that I was too forward, made too many comments, am too useless, too self-involved, too stupid, too pathetic, for Enjolras to really have stayed around for much longer. It's no wonder he left. Because everyone always does.  
I slump back onto the bed and curl up in a defensive position, trying to argue back, to tell myself that I'm misreading things, that there's another explanation and I'm being irrational. That this is just the black dog talking and I need to fight it and take back control. With energy I summon from _somewhere_ , I reach out and grab my rucksack, and pull out a battered blue book. Thank god I remembered to bring it.  
I flip it open, carding through a few pages of it and pondering over what I need right now. Do I want to draw something? Do a puzzle? Do some maths? Read a letter? Write a letter? I decide to read a letter and then draw something. Flipping to the section I've dedicated to letters to and from myself, I decide on one titled "calm the fuck down".

 _"Dear Grantaire_  
It's me, Grantaire. The reason you're reading this letter is probably because you're spiralling about something. Don't blame yourself for this, it's not your fault that it's happening. However, I do want you to try to stop it. Here's a few headlines for you to fill out (in your head, not the book):  
-What do you think is happening?" "Enjolras has abandonned me and left me alone in the creepiest motel ever"  
_"-Is what you think likely to be happening? Is it consistent with previous events/previous actions of a person?"_ "Well... No. I suppose Enjolras is not known for walking away from things, and he hasn't shown any aversion to my friendship in the past day or so"  
_"-If the answer is no, do you think it's possible that your thought spiral is born from an insecurity about this event or person? Is it fair to yourself to ruin what might be a good, or normal thing?"_ This is enough reading for me to have calmed down sufficiently to boil the kettle, dig some peppermint tea bags out of my rucksack, and open a blank page to start doodling. I grab a propranolol from my purse and swallow it with some tea, and I settle down to draw patterns in my book, one of my favourite coping mechanisms. Every so often I have to stop and count breaths again, wipe away stray tears running down my face, and make another cup of tea, but after about half an hour, I'm considerably calmer. I'm so consumed by this drawing exercise that I don't hear the door open, and I only look up when I hear  
"Grantaire! You're awake!" My snaps up, in utter shock and disbelief. It's Enjolras, Enjolras standing in front of the bed with a bag in one hand and a bunch of flowers in the other. I see the moment he registers the tear-tracks running down my face, sees the blue book and the peppermint tea and the propranolol, and puts it all together. He puts down the bag and the flowers just in time, because in another second I've barreled into him, and am hugging him fiercely.  
"Grantaire" his voice is soft and soothing, and the feel of his holding me tightly and smoothing my hair down is wonderful, it's therapeutic  
"I thought you'd left"  
"I'm sorry, I didn't even think"  
"I'm sorry you would have to" Enjolras pulls back, frames my face with his hands, and looks very solemn  
"Grantaire, you don't ever have to apologise for this, none of this is your fault, and just the fact that you managed to deal with it on your own is remarkable. You're incredibly strong, Grantaire. One of the stongest people I know. You can't know how much I admire you. Or how sorry I am for not thinking about how you'd feel if you woke up and I was gone. I'm sorry, I won't do it again"  
I want to tell his that it's ok, that he doesn't have to take my neuroticisms into account like that, but I'm just so grateful to be understood and cared for, that all I can do in response is nod, smile at him, and bury my face back into the crook of his neck.  
He holds me close in response, petting my hair and telling me about the flowers he got in a soft, sweet voice. After about ten minutes of us just standing, I pull away, wipe my face on my sleeve, and pack up my mental health first aid kit. Enjolras turns around and starts to unpack his bag. I sit down on the bed to watch him, and he produces two croissants, and a small box of cereal. He pops the kettle on, and goes to the bathroom to fill a plastic cup up with water. He uses a pocket knife to trim the flowers, ties them up with a bobble, and puts them into the cup. He turns to me, lifts the flowers shyly, and says  
"For the road?" And it's the sweetest thing I've heard in months, so I just nod dumbly, and we stare at each other until the kettle boils.  
We sit down to eat our breakfast outside, on a little grass area, because the sun's out and why not. I can't stop staring at him over my cup of coffee, still amazed and delighted that he's here. Even though I'm aware my previous thoughts were irrational, it's still nice to have them disproved. Enjolras smiles at me, and reaches over to clasp his hand over mine  
"Grantaire" he squeezes my hand "I'm never going to leave you, you're stuck with me, I'm afraid" and he grins, this big, happy grin that just makes me feel as if I'm having palpitations  
"Thank you"  
"Always"  
"And for the record?"  
"Mhmm?"  
"You're never getting rid of me either"  
He just grins happily and laughs, biting into his croissant and taking a drink of his coffee while he continues to look at me. And the calming blue of his eyes makes me feel certain of something, for the first time in a long time.


	8. Chapter 8 - Enjolras

After breakfast, we pack up our stuff and get back on the road. Grantaire carries the little plastic cup filled with flowers into the car like it's priceless, and places it in one of the cupholders. We buy some more snacks for the road, R puts on a playlist that seems to be entirely Regina Spektor, and we head off.  
It's a gorgeous day today, the sun pouring through the front windscreen is mellow and golden, and it makes the world look like a sepia-tone photograph. Because I can't resist, and because I'm a mess, I pull out my phone and pretend to write some texts, while actually taking photos of R. He looks so picturesque, I can't resist. His current caller ID on my phone is him looking at me through a glass of white wine, so I'm glad to replace it.  
We pass about an hour of R singing happily along to Regina, and quietly humming and drumming his fingers whiel listening to me answer his seemingly endless questions about state politics and the role my lobby group is playing right now. R is incredibly quick, and he's always kept up with local politics, which is one of the reasons I've always found his conversation scintillating. But today he just asks questions and listens to me answer them, soaking up my thoughts and opinions like a sponge. I feel selfish for not getting as much information from him, but every question I ask gets a concise answer.  
When we've both exhausted my ability to speak about pay equality and proposals to increase it, I pull the book of short stories out of my bag and pick up where we left off last night.

We've been reading the stories for about an hour, and are currently on one where an essential clue is found behind an oil painting and the canvas needs to be torn to retrieve it. Grantaire looks horrified at the prospect, and I have to ask  
"What is it?"  
"I just, I mean every piece of work I do I pour my heart and soul into, and if someone were to tear it open, even to solve a crime, I'd have to take a moment to gather" he glances over at me with a sheepish smile on his face "You know?"  
"I understand, all the pieces of your work I've seen have been beautiful, I'd be upset too if they were ruined", at this R looks at me in surprise, and gradually a pleased smile works its way onto his face  
"Your artwork really is beautiful, R" I press. He doesn't hear it enough, and it's true. His work is always ethereal, otherworldly. His art always looks like a precious glimpse into his mind, his soul. It's so expressive, and so devastatingly beautiful, it never fails to astound me. I've seen some of R's sketches, of us, when he leaves notebooks open, and I once saw a drawing of me, stood tall, mid-motion, rallying the troops. It was the most flattering image of myself I'd ever seen, and when I'm feeling beat-down or tired, I try to think of that incarnation of myself, of that me that R saw for a moment, and captured it in paper and ink.  
He's grinning shyly, staring dead ahead into the road, and I reach forward and steal his sunglasses. I didn't bring a pair and I've been wanting to try them on for a while now. I'm bored, sue me. R turns and laughs at me, the glasses are too big and keep falling off my face, but I give it a solid try and take some bizarre selfies with them on. Eventually, I realise the glasses and I were not destined to be together, and I slide them off my face and place them back on Grantaire's. I lose my sense of boundaries and control for a moment, and I allow my hand to linger on the leg of the glasses, allow it to drift down and softly cover his cheek. Like this morning, when he was asleep, R leans into the touch and makes a pleased sound, and I can't not move my hand to tuck a curl of hair behind his ear.  
Grantaire doesn't try to ask for an explanation, or ask me to stop, so I sift some of his hair through my fingers before returning my hand to the book, turning the page, and continuing with the story. Neither of us address what just happened, and I wouldn't know how to explain myself if we did.

We continue to read for an hour or two, I lose track of time, and the piano music softly filling the car is creating a contented and relaxed environment. Every few minutes, R will tell me some weird fact about bugs or paintings or historical murders, and I'll respond with a political scandal, or a funny quote, or just a series of curious questions. R is this well of knowledge, I love hearing what facts or curios he keeps in his mind.  
Eventually, R decides functioning adults eat lunch, and that we should try it out. In about an hour, we drive through a small town and find a little cafe to grab some food at.  
R slides out of the car with his sunglasses, fitting black t-shirt, and illegally tight skinny jeans, and I have to exercise restraint so I don't end up with hundreds of stealth photos of Grantaire at the end of the trip. Which would just be _too_ creepy.  
When we go in, there's a surprising amount of people for such a small town. Must be other drivers like us. I slide into a small table next to the window and Grantaire walks up to the waitress stnading next to the kitchen. I can tell by the way she's giggling and swatting her hand at him that he's charming her mercilessly, and the idea makes me wriggle a little in my seat. I know R is gay but I still get weirdly, irrationally jealous of this tiny small town girl. R traipses back over to our table with a massive cheeser plastered on his face, and places two huge cups of coffee down. Judging by the looks we're getting from some of the other tables, I'm guessing we may have skipped the queue. I'm overcome with the urge to pull R across the table by his shirt and kiss him out of gratitude. Gratitude, definitely. Instead, I settle for watching him put milk in my mug and then sugars in both our cups. He slides mine over to me, raises his mug and says  
"To flirting for a good cause" we clink our mugs, but I'm still squirming a little in my seat  
"And that's the only reason?" I regret saying it immediately  
"The only reason for what? For flirting with the waitress?" Grantaire looks genuinely surprised, he folds his sunglasses up and places them on the table in front of him, and cocks his eyebrow in lieu of them.  
"Yeah, I mean, do you not think it's a bit dishonest? Or something?"  
"Enjolras. It was for coffee. All's fair in love and war" He grins at this, as if that settles it  
"I get the feeling you wouldn't play fair"  
"What?" Again, genuine confusion graces his features. Dammit, he still looks handsome  
"Nevermind. Forget it, I'm being an idiot. Call it caffeine deprivation." This is a shit excuse and we both know it. We only ran out of coffee in the thermos about twenty minutes ago, and I'm definitely not _that_ dependent on caffeine. Thankfully, R lets it go.  
We sit and look at each other over the brims of the coffees, R looks studious, as if he's trying to figure me out, and god knows what I look like. I hope it's far enough from smitten that I can still endure this road trip.

I try not to spend too much time analysing my relationship with Grantaire. My feelings towards him. I'm not really big on the dating scene, purely because I can only really date someone I really, really like, and that's never really happened before. I only realised I was developing feelings for Grantaire when I was too far gone to stop. I'd fallen for all the little things, like his gallow's humour, the way he always has at least one sketchbook on his person at all times, how he knew everyone in the group's coffee and drink orders within a week of hanging out with us, how you can tell he's having a rough time because he creates, he always gives out more baking, draws more, writes more, during down periods. Those damn books. I know he selects books for everyone, but I still feel like every book is so personally selected for me, chosen with such care. It makes reading them so much better.  
The nail in the coffin, I think, was about two years ago. I'd been a little stressed out with exams and applying for jobs and flat hunting, and I was feeling a little wrung out. I must have shown it, because one day R showed up at my flat and pulled me into a firm hug, and pressed a box into my hand. The box had "Enjolras' First Aid Kit" written on the top, and I must have shown how puzzled I was, because R sat down, gestured for me to join him, and explained  
"So this is a special kind of first aid kit. It's a mental health first aid kit. It's got a bunch of things I know help you calm down, and a few things I'd reccomend, and some notes and letters and whatnot. Oh, and a notebook with instructions I wrote for you, the notebook's stellar, use the notebook." I must have still looked confused as I opened the box and started to pick through it, because he continued  
"You've been looking really stressed, more than usual, and I just want to make sure you look after yourself  
"Grantaire, this is lovely, but I don't think I need it, I'm fine with handling stress, honestly"  
"Ok, so you know how when you don't have a cold, and you feel totally fine?" He waited for me to nod "You still look after yourself, and take vitamins and exercise and shit, right?"  
"Well, yeah-" I start, about to say it's a little different, but R preempts me  
"It's not so different. Prevention is better than cure, Enjolras, and I care about you. I know you're doing ok just now, and I'd like to keep it that way. This box is so that you stay in mint condition, ok?"  
And that was it. After that moment it took me months before I could even look at R without having palpitations, or a head rush, or having to catch my breath. I'm more used to it now, I've grown accustomed to my feelings. But I don't mean to say they've gone away. They absolutely have not. I just know that R sees me as a friend, and I could never do anything that would risk losing him, or making him feel like he's losing me. I could never to that to R. I won't.  
I think I control myself fairly well, with the only blip being that I occasionally get jealous. R is a lot more... active than I am, alhough he tends not to get into relationships. Usually when I'm dealing with R-related jealousy, I try not to be too close to him, incase I make a mistake, but that's not an option in this case.  
I won't mess this up though, I can't. I treasure R too much to let my feelings ruin what we have. I'm fine with admiring at a distance. And R does love me back, in his own way.

Soon enough, two heaped plates of food come. I don't remember ordering, and realise R must have done it. Of course, it's my favourite. I don't think bubble and squeak was even on the menu, so R must have requested it specially. I look up at him, grinning, and he laughs at me  
"I've never had anyone look at me the way you look at bubble and squeak. I figured it would give you strength for the road"  
I would answer him, but I'm already shovelling the food into my mouth enthusiastically. It's probably not the most seductive move but I couldn't care less. It's bubble and squeak! We eat in relative silence, and R gets up at one point to get refills for our coffee. At that moment, my phone starts ringing. I see it's Combeferre, and I step outside to take the call  
"Combeferre?"  
"Enjolras! You're alive!" I can hear Courfeyrac cheering on the other end of the phone, and then him loudly saying goodbye to his fiancee and slamming the door shut on his way out. Courfeyrac is like a human exclamation mark  
"Hey, yeah, we're in this pokey little town having lunch, R's inside refilling the coffee. I think we're making good time"  
"That's good, that's good. And how are you doing?" This question sounds loaded, and I pretend not to read between the lines  
"Yeah, I'm fine, not too tired. The food's good, I got bubble and squeak!"  
"Enjolras." Combeferre's tone is stern but supportive simultaneously, somehow. He'll make an excellent dad  
"Ferre. I'm dying"  
"I know, I'm sorry. But you know, this might not be such a bad thing"  
"EXCUSE YOU, put yourself in my shoes for a second, and imagine" I drop my voice and look around " Imagine you're on a road trip with Courf except he has no idea how you feel about him and will never return your affections. I do not see how this could possible not be a bad thing." Combeferre sighs heavily down the phone, sounding long-suffering and exasperated  
"Look, Enjolras, I'm not spelling this out for you, I just think maybe you've misread the situation, that's all"  
"Ugh. Why do you have to be so cryptic all the time"  
"Mystery is sexy"  
"Gross, that's like my dad describing himself as sexy"  
"Wow. Rude."  
"Goodbye Ferre, talk to you later"  
"Au revoir, mon petit-" I hang up and duck my head. What the hell does Ferre mean? Unless he's under some delusion that my feelings are not one-sided. Sure, maybe Grantaire finds me attractive, but I want more than just sex. No strings attached would destroy me. Taking a few deep breaths and counting to ten, I shake it off and go back inside. I should have stayed outside composing myself for longer.  
When I look over to see R, there's some guy leaning over, standing very close to R, and he's got a sleazy enough grin on his face to be in no doubt of what he's doing. The worst part is that the guy is good-looking. He's downright sexy. He's got jet black hair falling down to his chin, a white open-collared shirt tucked into dusty jeans, and a rogue-cowboy, wild west kind of handsome face. I just stand and look at him for a second, and then, without intending to, I look down at myself, and find myself lacking. I'm wearing my worn red hoodie and faded skinnies that I've had for years, with a ratty cause t-shirt and battered red converse. I've got my glasses on the bridge of my nose, having forgotten to take them off earlier, and I've never felt more self-conscious. I've just finished taking inventory of all my faults when I look up, and my eyes lock with R's. R looks incredibly flattered, and has an embarrassed smile on his face, but it falls in a second when he sees me. I have no idea what I look like, but it must be somewhere in the ballpark of miserable, because he looks concerned and confused, and the mixture is unhelpfully cute on his face. Before either of us moves, I feel a weight on my elbow, and turn to find the waitress standing next to me with a sympathetic smile  
"Sweetheart, I know, I feel the exact same when some girl's all over my man. But don't you worry, I've been watching you two, and the way he looks at you, you got nothing to worry about. That man knows where his loyalties lie" I know it's dumb, but I don't correct her on thinking R is my boyfriend. It feels nice for a moment to think that in someone's version of reaity, he is. She knudges my elbow and I move obediantly over to our table. I pull out my wallet, slap enough money on the table, loud enough to get the guy's attention, and turn to look at R. He stares up at me, and I manage to grit out  
"R, let's get out of here." He binks at me for a second, and I'm just so done The handsome guy looks up at me and glares "Do you mind? We're having a conversation here" I can hear a honey-toned twang now. I feel sick with inadequacy, and I can't manage to look at R. "Yes, actually, I mind. Would you just back the fuck off?" I take a step towards the guy, which is inadvisable because now that he's standing, I see he's waaay bigger than me "Enjolras" R's voice is stern and quiet, and the hand on my chest, pushing me back, draws my eyes back to his "Please, can we leave now?" This apparently works, because R turns and starts to gather up his things, much to the handsomestranger's dismay.  
"Could you move? We're leaving" I can't help it. The guy doesn't look deterred, and I can't bear to look at R to see his reaction. The guy scoffs at me and leans across R to scrawl his initials on R's forearm, and I can't watch. "Give me a call sometime" he drawls, and I turn on my heel to head out the door. The waitress comes over to me again as I'm nearly out  
"Honey, don't feel insecure. That boy adores you, sure as eggs are eggs. You're a very sweet couple" She hands me two cups of coffee, with a wink and an "on the house". I read her nametag, and give her a quick hug  
"Thanks, Katie"

I head to the car without looking back to see if R is following me, but eventually I can hear his footsteps about five seconds behind me. When I reach the car, I yank the door open and slide in. I realise there's only one cup holder because the other is occupied with the flowers I picked this morning, and I suddenly feel like an idiot for bringing them. Like a sentimental moron. I put one of the coffee cups, R's, in the free holder, and pick up the flower cup with my free hand. I'm not honetly sure what I was going to do with it, but I don't get as far as action, because R opens the door, sits down, takes the flowers out of my hand, and puts them in the extra cupholder next to the steering wheel without saying a word. He turns on the car and starts driving, and I wish I could look at anything other than the numbers on his arm  
"R-" I start  
"No, Enjolras. Don't. I don't want you to say anything until you've calmed down enough to explain what the hell just happened. Let's just drive, ok?"  
"Yeah, ok"  
I lean my head against the window and stare out, trying to figure out how to articulate what just happened in a way that won't ruin anything. R puts on some Nina Simone and I close my eyes, feeling the wind from R's open window rustling my hair and not hearing any musical input from R at all.


	9. Chapter 9 - Grantaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the cafe, Grantaire has some questions for Enjolras

Enjolras snores really softly in his sleep. It's very disarming. He's curled in a small, blonde, human pretzel, his head resting on the window and his legs tucked up to his chest. He's been asleep for about an hour, and I haven't the heart to wake him. I don't see any point in it. I have no idea what to say to him right now.  
Enjolras is passionate, and enthusiastic, but he's not usually rude and sharp. I don't have an explanation for his behaviour in the cafe, and part of me doubts I'm going to get one.  
I don't understand, everything had been going so well. When it was just me and him, on the road, everything was peaceful. I think we were happy. I was happy, anyway. And then when we got to the cafe, he started acting kind of erratically. What was that with the waitress? I didn't realise he'd be so offended at me using a bit of harmless flirting to get our order done quicker, especially since half the things the girl talked about were her boyfriend , and ribbed me about mine (she seemed to think Enjolras and I were together, and when I tried to correct her, she hushed me and told me "we don't discriminate in here, sweetheart"). Then there was that guy, Frank. He came over to talk to me when Enjolras was outside on the phone. I'm honestly surprised he came up to me at all, I was staring at Enj so intently you'd think he'd realise I wouldn't be interested. Enjolras just looked so funny and cute when he was on the phone. His arms flap wildly and he paces back and forth, like a cartoon character.  
Anyway, this guy, Frank, came up, and he wasn't bothering me or anything, I mean, it's kind of nice to get compliments every once in a while, right? He was just trying to get lucky, I guess, no big deal. So I have no idea why Enjolras was so angry at him, or why he decided it was time to go as soon as he saw him. He couldn't have thought I was genuinely going to abandon him in the middle of nowhere just for a quick fuck, right? I'm not that unreliable. But Enjolras really acted out of character. I've never seen him like that, unless he's talking about corrupt governments or people being fucked by the system, systematic repression, or stigma. I've certainly never seen him direct that kind of emotion to one civillian. Obviously I was going to go with him as soon as he asked. I can refuse Enjolras nothing. If he asked me to give him a piggy back the rest of the way to San Fran, I'd probably do it.  
And I'd really like to know when he struck up such a rapport with the waitress. When we were leaving, I heard them talking, saw her give him two coffees pro bono, and give him a hug. I also noticed his lack of protestation when she called us a couple. I'd _love_ an explanation for that. Although it's probably just that he was so angry he couldn't be bothered correcting her. Occam's razor and all that.  
I look over at him amidst my musings, and he stirrs slightly in his sleep. God, he's beautiful. I could fill notebooks with his profile alone. I probably have. His blond hair has fallen over one side of his face, and all the anger is gone from his face. He looks peaceful and delicate. Sometimes, when I look at Enjolras, I feel as though I might burst. As though one last look is enough to finish me off. I'd be fine with that, actually. If the last thing I see is Enjolras, I won't complain.  
I reach across and brush a curtain of hair behind his ear, and he turns in his sleep, moving towards me and smiling. He murmurs my name a few times, makes some unintelligeble noises, and falls silent again.  
I swear, I can hear my heart beating. It's probably loud enough to wake him up now. Focus Grantaire, focus on the road. Do not kill Enjolras because of his distracting cuteness. Although, who would blame me.  
I think about how glad I am that we missed that flight, because I feel like Enjolras and I have gotten much closer over the last day and a half. I thought we were understanding each other better, but maybe that'll take more time.  
I draw my hand away from Enjolras reluctantly, and he makes a noise of protestation that makes me blush and break out in a massive, cheesy grin. To distract myself, I decide to put on some more music. I settle on a playlist of First Aid Kit, turn it low, and bathe in the smooth singing and beautiful instruments.  
I've been listening to music for about 40 mintues when Enjolras stretches and makes a weird, waking up noise. It's intollerably cute. He blinks his eyes open, and they settle on me. He's got this dopey, sleepy smile on his face, and he reaches out to tap his finger onto my nose. I can't help but smile back at him, sleepy Enjolras is just too cute. But then, when he's drawing his hand back from my face, his smile fades, and I can see him remembering the cafe. His carefree, indulgent smile is replaced by a closed off look and I can't keep my smile up either. His arms withdraw completely, wrapping around himself, and he reaches for his cup of coffee and starts to drink from it  
"Isn't that freezing?" Enjolras looks at me, nods, but continues to drink from the cup, not batting an eyelid. My hand moves from the steering wheel to the cup of flowers, and I twirl one of the small, purple ones around, thinking of what to say.  
"Enjolras." He looks over at me, hesitant  
"Don't look at me like that, Enjolras. I'm not mad, I'm just confused. You don't have to explain everything to me if you don't want to, but I don't want to have to spend the rest of our trip like this. Especially when I've not done anything wrong." This last part I mumbled slightly, but Enjolras darts his headup, and immediately looked overwhelmed with guilt. I don't want that either.  
"No, Enjolras, I just. Ugh. I just want us to be like we were this morning, we were getting on so well. Could we do that? Are you ok?"Enjolras looks at me for a moment, then looks out to the road, thinking. He takes a long drink from his cold (and probably disgusting) coffee, and sighs. He turns round to me and takes hold of my free hand  
"I'm sorry, R. I wasn't thinking. It wasn't anything you did. You're perfect. I'll try to be better behaved now" He squeezes my hand, and I can barely feel it after "you're perfect". I squeeze back and smile encouragingly, and wonder what happened in the cafe, but resign myself to never finding out.  
"Hey, we're making pretty good time, maybe stop to grab a motel in an hour? Two hours?" Enjolras nods and decides to change the music. He puts on some Frank Sinatre and pulls the detective book out of the bag. He quickly flicks through the pages we've got left and says  
"That's fine, there's only two stories left in this anyway" He grins, and gets started. He doesn't let go of my hand.

We pull in two and a half hours later, at a motel that looks considerably less creepy compared to last night's, and when we walk into reception, the woman at the desk is chipper and cheerful. She hands us a room key and we head to the room  
"I saw a Chinese takeaway about five minutes away, how about we dump the bags, do grab some food, and bring it back here to eat in bed?" Enjolras grins through his suggestion, obviously pleased with it  
"Yeah, sounds great, let's do that. I'm starving anyway" He smiles at me, and grabs the key out of my hand. He darts ahead of me along the hallway, and I try to catch up, but just end up barelling into him, sandwiching him between me and the door. I'm laughing until I realise I'm laughing alone, and then I see how close Enjolras is. I can pick out the light freckles running across his nose, the darker blue flecks in his eyes. I memorise the bow of his lips, realising that in every drawing it'd been just _nearly_ right, but I've been getting the dip wrong. When I notice Enjolras is holding his breath, just standing there, pinned to the door, I feel guilty for staring unbidden, smile apologetically, and step back. Enjolras grins sheepishly and opens the door. He iterally throws the bags in, pulls the door shut, and slides the key card into his pocket. Not even a moment spent surveying the room. He reads my mind  
"We'll see it when we get back- someone said they were starving" he bumps my shoulder and smiles at me, and we set off in search of dinner.

The people in the Chinese takeaway are delightful, and everything smells incredible. We ended up buying way too much, deciding to just buy loads of things to try. We head back to our room to eat there, which is probably a good idea considering how our last public dining experience turned out. Enjolras walks into the room, laughing because I made a joke and he responded with "That's aPOLLEN". It doesn't make me love him less. Which is a true test, because that pun was atrocious.   
Enjolras dumps the food bags down on the bed and then stops, looking at the bed for a moment. He looks at me and says  
"Is this ok?" And it takes me a minute to figure out that he means is it ok that there's only one bed and we'll have to share?  
"Yeah, no problem, it wasn't an issue last night, right?" Enjolras nods, and we settle down to eat.   
Enjolras and Chinese food are a lethal combination. He will use all manner of distractions to steal food from you, which I keep laughing at, and eventually get out  
"Enjolras, you don't have to steal from me, just ask me!"  
"I'm sorry, I used to live with Courfyrac, and old habits die hard"  
"I could refuse you nothing, Enj" I respond, punctuating it by dropping a spring roll into his box of noodles and smiling beatifically. He looks thoughtful for a moment, and then the moment's gone. And so is the spring roll.  
When we finish eating, we tidy up a little, dumping things in the bin and throwing pyjamas on. We slide into the covers and Enjolras looks at me hesitantly, then moves closer to me and curls up, pillowing his head on my chest and winding his arms round my waist. Without my permission, my arm moves down and comes to rest on his back, pulling him closer in to me. I card my fingers through his hair and sigh happily as I drift off.


	10. Chapter 10 - Enjolras

I wake up first in the morning, and indulge in the armful of Grantaire I have. I fold myself in closer and breathe him in deeply. He moves a little and sniffles lightly in his sleep, tightening his grip around me and burying his face in my hair. I love waking up with Grantaire. I've never felt safer, more cared for, than here in the shelter his arms provide. I start quietly humming to myself, drawing circles on R's chest through the t-shirt and smiling. He makes a happy noise andmoves his arm down to the small of my back, pulling me closer still. We stay like that, lazy and quiet in the morning light, until R wakes up about half an hour later.  
He stretches out, pulling me with him as he moves. He curls back in around me and I feel him smile into my hair  
"Morning" he mumbles, running his hand up and down my spine. His free hand grabs the hand I'd been drawing no him with, and twines our fingers together  
"Let's just stay here, like this for a while" his voice is scratchy and corrupting, and he could convince me of anything like this. I make a sound of agreement and press my face into the crook of his neck, revelling in his warmth and the smell of him. Grantaire always smells like a mixture of oil paint and oak, and it's intoxicating. We stay, warm and safe, for a long time. I think R stays awake, and I definitely do. Falling asleep right now would be a waste of this precious moment. I'm in R's space and he's letting me be. Wild horses and all that.  
Eventually, R runs a hand through my hair and tells me he's going to have a shower. I pull away reluctantly and get up to make coffee. R pads softly into the bathroom, and I can't help myself, I watch him go. He looks soft and cosy in the morning, but he's still wearing a pair of dark green boxer briefs and that cause t-shirt from uni. It's a litany of evidence, a testimony to his attractiveness. I sigh dreamily and pour two cups of coffee. I'm adding sugar to both when I hear R's voice singing loudly over the sound of the shower. It takes a few lines for me to identify the song as "Backlash Blues" and I grin like an idiot. It's one of my favourites. I sit down on the bed and blow on my coffee to cool it, and bathe in R's voice rolling Nina Simone's immortal words from his mouth. I'm swaying against my will within moments, and before I can help myself I join in, berating Mr Backlash along with R and Nina. I hear R stop for a second and then hop back in, singing even more dramatically now, and I have to pause to giggle to myself. He mimicks the guitar solo, and I hum along until the word kick back in.  
R sings wonderfully, you can hear all the feeling he puts into the song, and I want to record him again, but don't want to be a creep.  
The song ends, and R turns off the shower. He steps back into the room and grins at me, and we look at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing. I pass R his cup of coffee, and he takes it gratefully.  
"I think there's a record deal on the horizon for us" he jokes, and I start laughing again.  
"Speak for yourself, I sing like crap. You've actually got a pretty good set of pipes on you" R blushes at the compliment, and hides his pleased smile behind his coffee  
"Nonsense, I like hearing you sing. I wish you would join in more often" we stand there, smiling at each other like idiots, and then I realise R's dripping wet. His damp hair is plastered to his face, and his torso glistens with droplets of water. He's got a soft-looking towel draped around his waist, and his arms curled around the coffee cup are tensing in a very distracting manner. My gaze wanders down his arm, and rests on the faint outline of the numbers from yesterday. I bristle a little and take a long sip of coffee  
"You couldn't manage to get that guy's number off your arm, then?" I ask, unable to help myself. R looks confused, and then glances down at his arm and laughs  
"Yeah, I gave it a good try but I guess I'll just have to wait for it to fade, it's like he used a permanent marker or something" he's grinning as he looks at the numbers, but stops as he looks up and see's I'm definitely not amused  
"What's the problem, Enjolras? You didn't genuinely think I was going to leave you stranded in the middle of nowhere for some guy?" Is that why he thinks I was upset?  
"Grantaire, I-" Ugh. Talking it too difficult "That's not. I trust you." He softens a little at this, places his cup of coffee down, and steps closer to me  
"Then what was it? I know I said it's ok not to tell me, but I'd really like to know" He looks so genuine and confused, I'm torn between not wanting to ruin this and not wanting to leave him questioning, so he can turn the situation against himself  
"Grantaire. It wasn't you, it was the guy. The guy was bothering me. You did nothing wrong" I have my fingers crossed that this will satisfy him. It doesn't  
"I don't understand, he was just hitting on me, he wasn't doing anything that objectionable"  
"I don't like it when people do that" I don't mean to let this slip out, but it's too late  
"Do what? Hit on me? Why? Enjolras, I don't understand, why is it so difficult for you to understand that someone might be interested in me?" He's totally warping this, I knew this would happen. Grantaire without an explanation always turns it negatively on himself, it's like he can't help himself  
"Grantaire! Obviously I understand that! Jesus Christ"  
"Obviously?"  
I can't take any more of this, and in lieu of any further explanation, I make a terrible decision, I get up from the bed, step into R's space, and kiss him. It's quick and light, I frame his face with my hands and curve slightly into him. It's a kind of wonderful torture, R's lips are so soft, and the breath of surprise that passes them is warm and sweet on mine. I step back, and R has a look of supreme shock on his face. I immediately regret my decision  
"R, I'm sorry. I sholdn't have done tha-" and R cuts me off, pulling me back into him and closing his lips over mine. He's delicate but insistent, and I can't help but make a soft noise of surprise as he pulls me close. One had weaves into my hair and the other winds round my back and holds me close to him. As if I need any incentive to stay.  
I take the opportunity to run my hands down his chest, revelling in the firmness of a boxer's body, and delighting in the heat he radiates. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and run a hand into his hair, pulling lightly on his curls. He gasps lightly, allowing me to deepen the kiss, to connect us further. Intoxicated, I walk R backwards into the wall, pinning him tight against it. My kisses have turned from light and careful to demanding, and I explore his mouth with my tongue. I run it along the roof of his mouth and he moans lewdly. The noise shoots straight to my cock, and it spurrs me on to press even closer to him. I pull away from his mouth to pay attention to that dangerous jawline. R obediently lifts his head, giving me room to lavish attention along the ridge, running my tongue along the stubble and biting lightly on the corners. I reach his earlobe and pull on it with my teeth, earning a delicious groan from R. When I pull back, R looks wrecked. His hair is wild from my hands, his lips bright red and shining, and his pupils have swallowed the green of his irises. I grin at him, delighted at the fruits of my labour thus far, and return to his neck. I work my way down the column of his throat with kisses and light bites, and when I reach the hollow above his collarbone, where neck meets shoulder, I lavish attention, sucking a dark mark into the skin there. Staking my claim. R growls at this, and I nearly lose my footing in response. If R's moans were seductive, his growl is downright filthy, and at the sound of it, I rededicate myself to the task at hand: showering R's torse with attention. I'm working my down his abdomen, pressing kisses and sucking bruises into the lines I find there, and R's arms are banding round my shoulders, fisting in my hair. I move back up slightly and hear a noise of protest which dies on R's lips when I locate the sensitive area of his nipple. I take one in my mouth and suck lightly, garnering a soft noise of approval and a gasp from R. I work across to the other, and work it between my teeth, applying light pressure and delightinting in my reward of a gasping, wriggling R under my lips. His hand tightens in my hair and I move down again, pausing at the towel wrapped around his waist. I've got one finger worked into it, asking a silent question. R nodds enthusiastically, and I pull the towel away with a flourish.   
R's gorgeous. He's a demi god, he's a gift. I'm stuck staring with my mouth open, a thousand images and ideas flitting through my mind, until I feel a hand under my chin, and R is pulling me level with him. He's got this lovely, reassuring look on his face as he pulls me in. This kiss is more tender, less desperate, more languid. I revel in this quiet moment with R, just feeling him and being felt. I retract myself and turn my attention to R's cock again.   
He's so hard, precum gathering around the head, and I lose control of my legs and drop to my knees. I rest my hands on the handlebars of R's hips, and press a kiss to each of them. I work my way up R's thighs, chasing rogue droplets of water with my tongue, teasing R with attention everywhere except where he wants it. I press my nose into the dark bed of hair above his cock, where the V of his hips meets. R is absolutely stunning, and I'm genuinely dumbstruck. I make a circle with my fingers around the base of R's cock, and he chokes out a soft noise. Looking up at him, I stare while he works a hand back into my hair, smoothly petting my curl down, the other hand brushing escaped locks away from my face. His thumb moves down to my bottom lip and rests heavy there. Unable to resist, I suck his thumb into my mouth and run my tongue along it. R's eyes widen almost comically, and the hand in my hair tightens. R gets the message, and pulls the thumb out from between my lips. Maintaining eye contact, staring into those wide, dark eyes, I lick a stripe up the base of his cock. He whimpers and throws his head back, but returns to my eyes when I run my tongue around the head. He stares at me as I suck it into my mouth, running my tongue into the slit at the top and working my hand down slowly, applying just not enough pressure.  
R's gaze is mystifying, captivating. He looks utterly debauched, and he's beautiful like this. I open my mouth wider and take him as far as I can, then keep going. His eyes widen, and he sifts my hair through his fingers like sand. I build up a steady rhythm, applying the pressure I soon find he likes, and working him with my hand. I mess aorund with my tongue and suck occassionally to wrangle more broken noises from him. He's started whining my name in a delicious way, and I realise _this_ is what I want to record, the sound of R moaning my name as I suck him off. R throws his head back and growls my name loud on a particularly viscious suck, and he pulls my hair, one hand coming down to run on my lip again,  
"Enjolras, ah, Enj, wait, stop" I pull back, reluctantly, wondering if I did something wrong, but R's intense gaze renders me silent. His nails drag over my scalp and a moan escapes me, unbidden  
"Wait, wait" He pulls me back up to stand, facing him. He presses both hands against my chest and I give him a moment to catch his breath  
"Enjolras" I nod "I want you to fuck me" I'm not proud of it, but I'm certain my jaw drops. I stare at R, his huge eyes and biteable lips, and I've never wanted anything more. Instead of responding with words, I nod desperately and pull him in for a fierce kiss. R works nimble fingers under my top and pulls it over my head, walking me backward. My shins his the bed and I fall backwards, pulling him with me  
"I think that's doable" I choke out, and roll him onto his back, attacking his lips again and he kisses me through a grin. I'm certain I'll never love anyone like I love R.


	11. Chapter 11 - Grantaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just smut, basically nothing else  
> Forgive me

I can't believe what's happening. It's likely that this is a dream, and that I'm going to wake up any second, but if that's the case, it's an incredible dream.  
Enjolras is above me, with kiss stung, bitten lips, wild hair and wide, darkened eyes, raking over me hungrily. He's leaning on his forearms, and has just finished sucking another dark mark into my ribcage. He licks his lips and stares at mine, and looks utterly filthy. He closes in, drawing our lips together, and presses a quick, light kiss. It's delicate and precious, and I still gasp when he pulls back. His face softens, and he brushes my hair back from my forehead.  
"You are the most beautiful man I've ever seen" he whispers, and he sounds awestruck. If I weren't already lying down, I'd have fallen over. He starts peppering kisses all over my face, pressing his lips across my eyelids, the bridge of my nose, my cheeks. He pauses at my lips and his eyes come to mine  
"Stunning" he murmurs, and then bends down and kisses me thoroughly. This kiss is more intense, more insistent, it's more heated. I Draw my hands down his chest, reverently, and hook my fingers into his jeans, halting momentarily. Enjolras smiles at me, guides my hands to remove the jeans, and kisses me deeply again. I push them down his legs and he kicks them off at his ankles. I draw back a little just to stare at him, appreciate this marble god brought to life, take a moment to look and realise that this is happening, that it is Enjolras' hands roaming my body, Enjolras' lips sucking bruises onto my skin, Enjolras grinning wickedly and moving a hand to fist around my-  
Fuck  
I release Enjolras' name on a groan and throw my head back, which Enj takes as an invitation to decorate my neck with bites and kisses. He meets my eyes and looks hesitant for a second  
"Do you have?" He's almost shy, which is adorable given the circumstances. I nod enthusiastically and point to my rucksack, thank fuck I always have lube and condoms in my wash bag when I travel. Enjolras jumps back and I mourn the loss of his heat and weight, but only momentarily, because my attention is stolen by the tensing muscles running down his spine, the curve of his ass, his taut thighs. He grabs the lube and condoms and comes back to bed, and I'm not complaining about the full frontal view either. He throws his findings on the bed and crawls over me, looking predatory and illegally attractive.  
"R, are you sure? You can say no at any point, consent is sexy" Enjolras looks unsure and adorable, and I bring my hands up to frame his face  
"Enj, I've never been more certain. Yes. God, yes." He grins at me and ducks down for another kiss. I move a hand into his hair and one runs down his spine, doting on the muscles I'd just been admiring. This hand continues to move down and reaches the smooth curve of his ass, and I grab a handful of it, massaging him with my artist's hand. Enj moans into my mouth and I kiss him back through a smile.  
He moves back slightly, and his eyes are even darker, his pupils consuming the sharp blue of his eyes. I run my fingers through his hair again and he just looks at me for a moment before he picks up the lube and clicks it open. He pours some on his hand and warms it up, covering his fingers with it and pressing another light kiss of my cheek before moving down slightly. My breath hitches in expectation as he moves his hand down and tentatively presses one finger to my entrance. It's an alien feeling, but I trust Enj, and I give him a reassuring nod. He presses the finger inside me slowly and starts to work me open  
"I want to make sure you're comfortable, talk to me" he murmurs into my ear as he presses another finger gently in.  
"Ah, Enj nngh- keep going" Enjolras nods comprehensively and returns to his work with renewed vigour, kissing me deeply and moving his fingers, curling them in a way that makes me arch my back and grab onto his shoulders, gasping for air. Enjolras grins wickedly and repeats the successful maneuvre, pulling pleading, begging noises from me, until he presses another finger in and starts wringing cries from me  
"Enjolr- ahh, ah- Enj, please, I need you, please, just"  
"Hmmm, please what?" Enjolras is a wicked man. When we get back to the city I'm calling all his social justice groups and telling them that he's a twisted, sexy monster  
"Please, please fuck me now" I manage to choke out before he curls his fingers unforgivingly and I release his name as a low whine.  
"Well, since you asked nicely" Enj smiles sweetly and pulls his fingers out. He picks up a condom and looks at me  
"I'm clean" I say, not breaking eye contact. Enjolras throws the condom behind him and I have to pull him in to kiss him again. It's deep and filthy, and a promise. A preview. Enjolras licks dirtily into my mouth and then pulls back, leaving me chasing him, as he giggles and picks the lube up again. I pluck it out of his grip, pour some out on my hand, and slick him up. He rumbles quietly as I get carried away with the task at hand, and a hand reaches out to still me  
"R, I need to be inside you" I nod, speechless "Now" Enjolras' voice is low and wrecked, and I fail to suppress a shiver.  
He aligns himself and I hook my ankles around his waist, linking them at the small of his back as he presses in slowly, showing great composure. His hair is pressed damp along his hairline with sweat, and when he's fully inside me, he rests his forehead against mine and breaths heavily. He opens his eyes and my breath escapes me. He looks so intense, so caring, so tender. He whispers my name and I return with his. He looks flushed and gorgeous, and he leans in to kiss me.  
Something about this kiss is different, it's tender and careful, and full of meaning. I can't quite understand what this kiss means, but I don't have long to think as Enjolras starts to move carefully. He sets up a steady, smooth rhythm that has us both gasping and moaning into each other's mouths. He pulls back to look at me, and then without speaking, we roll over. Having Enjolras underneath me is a massive power trip. He reaches up and runs his hands through my hair, tugging sharply and making me cry out. Then he moves them down to settle on my hips, blinking into my eyes and encouraging me with his hands  
"R, move" he lifts his hips up gently "R, ride me" this comes out more as a growl, more like a command, and I obey. He set up a harsher, faster rhythm, and within minutes I'm on the edge  
"Enjolras, I'm close" I try to warn him, but he moves a hand round and closes it round my cock, working it in the same pace we've set up, causing me to arch my spine and throw my head back, placing both my palms on his chest to keep my balance as he bucks up under me. I come with a shout of his name and he flips me over again, kisses me and fucks me harder for a few seconds, then collapses with a groan.  
Enjolras is heavy on my chest, running circles with his hand and murmuring my name into my skin over and over like a prayer. I pull him close and play with his hair, pressing light kisses to his head. I roll Enj off of me to go get a cloth from the bathroom, clean us both up quickly, and jump back into bed. Enjolras curls around me again and leans up to look at me. He looks very innocent like this, very open. Quiet and soft and happy in the afterglow. He kisses me lightly, but lingers, and when he pulls away he says "Thank you, R" and settles in to use my chest as a pillow. I listen to his breathing even out until we fall asleep, and I don't think I've felt this safe and content in a long time.


	12. Chapter 12 - Enjolras

I wake up to the soft sound of R singing quietly to me. He's holding me close against his chest and murmuring the lyrics to a song I don't recognise, but it's beautiful. I blink up at him and am overwhelmed by his beauty again. His eyes are soft and happy but a little hesitance is creeping into them. His hair is wild, pointing in every direction curtesy of a nap and my roving hands. Then everything comes back to me in a wave. I remember stepping into R's space, claiming him, R kissing me back and everything moving quickly from there. I stare dumbly at R with a slack-jaw gaze, suddenly crippled by self-doubt and I'm about to pull away from him when he grins, laughs softly and sneaks a hand round under my chin. He tilts my face up to his and raises me to meet his lips. This kiss is gentle and sleepy, and I'm overcome with affection for him. He pulls away and I mumble with discontent. He laughs again and presses a kiss to my cheek. I make a happy noise and involuntarily move closer to him, encouraging more soft touches and delicate kisses. He obliges and begins to move down my neck. In response, I weave my hands into his hair and hold him close, winding my legs through his, pulling us as tight as we can be. It's intoxicating to have R this close, he's so generous with his touches, so soft and pliant and musical with the noises he's making. There's no growls this morning, nothing feels rushed or desperate, just quiet and happy and relaxed. His nimble fingers work down my body, mapping me out, and when he's sure of the terrain, his lips follow. His breath is warm on my skin, sending tingles down my spine and raising goosebumps across my flesh. My hands fist tighter in his hair as he steadily moves lower and lower, and he gives absolutely no warning before moving lower to press kisses down the v of my hips to the centre. I gasp and grin and he glances up at me. Once we've locked eyes, it's impossible to look away. Watching his pink lips wrap and move around me is addictive, and I see no reason not to give into my addiction right now.  
Our motel room feels like a haven, like a paradise for R and I to just be together. I finish in an embarrassingly short amount of time and I pet R's hair down as he comes back up to lie his chin on my chest. I'm gasping for air as he smiles at me, reverent and kind. It doesn't help the air situation. R kisses my chest again, just once, just softly, and I've never been more in love.  
I realise we're both in need of a shower and I'm eager to make R feel as good as he makes me feel, if that's a reasonable goal to have.  
I pull both of us up and lead R towards the bathroom, and when R notices where we're going, he grins and follows enthusiastically.  
When we get in and turn on the spray, it's freezing to begin with, and I yelp in surprise and jump into R. He laughs and pulls me in, smiling charitably at me. I glance up and catch his eyes, and there's suddenly something charged, electric in the air between us, I lean up to capture his lips as the water begins to heat up.  
R moans into the kiss as I press him up against the tiles of the shower and my hands start to wander. Grantaire's chest was meant to have my fingers work down it, his biceps were made for my hands to curl round them, his nipples made for my tongue to work around, wringing sighs out of Grantaire, his ass made to fit in my hands, made to be kneaded by my palms.   
R's already a wreck when I move my hand round to fist his cock, and by the look on his face, I don't think he'll last long. I move down his body to kneel on the tiled floor of the shoer and take him fully into my mouth. R chokes out an incoherent noise and his hands find my shoulders, grappling desperately for purchase and moving to the short, curled hairs at the nape of my neck, twirling them between his fingers. My predictions were right, and R doesn't last long. I pull some fancy tongue work out of the bag and suck mercilessly until he's shouting out my name, growing less recognisable as 'Enjolras' every time.  
I get to my knees and draw him into another deep kiss. His hair is silky and dark under the water, and running my fingers through it feels incredible. He moves away to pour soap into his hands and begins rubbing it all over me. I have to hold onto him to stay vertical.  
We get out of the shower when we're _very clean_ and towel off. R's hair is big and bouncy again in a matter of minutes, and when mine doesn't show the same resilience, he grabs my towel and tries to revive it himself. It feels absurdly domestic as we make more coffee for the road and head out.   
Today, the road is easy. I can't stop smiling and R's always in motion, making jokes or singing along to his music, and he grins constantly. I lean across to kiss him at every red light, and it's bliss. I haven't been this happy in a long time. Maybe ever.  
We have relaxed conversations about dogs and our work and places we'd like to visit someday. It feels so safe in the car with Grantaire, and I tell him things I've never told anyone. We talk about our estranged families, and we talk about our wonderful friends, and think about what they might be doing. I'm running through a mental itinerary of their trip in my head and R looks at me and says  
"I'd rather be here, with you", and I melt into my seat.

We're running pretty late today, so instead of stopping anywhere, we get drive through food and eat while we move. R's veggie burger is covered in outrageous amounts of sauce and toppings, and when he's finished, he resorts to liking his fingers clean. It makes me feel wildly uncomfortable in my seat, and I can't tear my eyes away from him. He looks over and sees my staring. I probably look ridiculous, blush high on my cheeks and eyes blown wide. I'm even biting my lip. He stops for a second, then grins wolfishly and returns to licking his fingers, but this time with added vigour, sucking his fingers obscenely one by one.  
"R" I manage to make his name about five syllables, drawing it out as I watch him.  
"Is everything ok, Enj?" R asks, and I want to kill him or kiss him. Or both.  
"You're incorrigible, R" I whine, well aware of how affected I sound "This is cruelty"  
"I honeslty don't know what you're talking about, what's wrong?" He punctuates this with a particularly ruthless lick up the palm of his hand, and I throw my head back against the head rest and groan. This is unendurable. I look at R again and he looks delighted at my reactions. He grins at me a little longer and then turns his head back to the road.  
Deciding to get my own back, and weighing up the risk of dying in a car crash if R swerves off the road, I smoothly move my hand to rest high on his thigh and lean in so my lips are close to his ear. Using my best 'come hither' voice, I whisper into the shell of his ear  
"Do you know what that makes me think of, R? The sight of you licking dirtily at your hands and fingers? It reminds me of your lovely soft lips stretched around my cock. Of your clever tongue running along the length, wringing unwilling noises from me. It reminds me of you standing above me, scrambling at my hair as I take you fully into my mouth" R chokes at this and his knuckles go white on the steering wheel.  
"Do you remember that R? Me bent on my knees in from of you, wrapped around your dick? Did you like it?" R nods shakily and swallows, resetting his shoulder and trying to look composed. I tighten my grip on his thigh and he breathes in sharply.  
"Mm, good. I liked making you feel like that. Seeing you come undone around me, because of my hands and my lips and my tongue" R is shaking is head as if trying to physically get the images out of his head  
"Enjolras" he croaks out. His voice is fucked, shaky and broken. I feel elated at my success, and when he turns round to look at me, finally, he looks absolutely done. It's wonderful, but it just makes me wish we were in a motel already. We'd agreed to stop in about an hour because it was really dark now. Not that time is much of a concern right now.  
"Enjolras, I'm driving. You'll kill us both" He grits out, with little conviction to his words. I grin back at him as devilishly as I can manage and make a win-win suggestion  
"We should really pull over soon, you look tired. You need rest" Grantaire looks incredulous until he glances over and catches the look on my face. His face sets into a conspiratorial grin and he speeds up.

We find a motel and get into our room as fast as we can, no pleasantries exchanged with the receptionist this time. As soon as the door is closed, the bags fall to the floor and there are hands everywhere. I'm feeling and being felt so many places I don't know where I end and R begins. His kiss is demanding, forceful, and he pushes me up against the back of the door and locks it in one swift move. His hands move fast, pushing under my shirt and pulling it off my head, moving down to attack my chest with kisses and marks. He runs his hands down my back, fingers drumming as if he's playing the guitar, making me shiver. His hands reach under my ass and he picks me up. I yell in surprise and wind my legs around his waist. This brings us even closer, and flush against him I'm free to explore his back and his chest with my curious fingers. I can feel how hard he is against me through our layers of clothing, and I'm desperate to touch him.  
Our needy hands make short work of our clothes, and all that remains is R's jeans after a few moments. I'm trying to take them off when R stops and pulls lube out of his pocket and holds it in between his teeth as I work his jeans the rest of the way off and he kicks them away.  
"Look at you boyscout, always prepared" He grins at me and removes the lube from between his teeth to kiss me again. He licks dirtily into my mouth and I've made up my mind.  
"R, I need you to fuck me" R blinks at me, noiselessly  
"Now." He understands this, and dives in to kiss me filthily, his hands tensing around my ass as I growl into the kiss  
"R" He pulls back a bit and grins at me  
"Impatient, are we?"   
"Just a bit" He smiles and kisses the end of my nose, a strangely intimate gesture to be followed by his hand uncapping the lube and pouring some out. He rubs it on his fingers and looks up at me to check I'm ok, which would make me fall over if he weren't holding me up.  
He moves his fingers round to my ass and runs one round my entrance before slowly moving it in, running it in tiny circles as he does. I quickly find out Grantaire is inhumanly good at this, like olympic sports good, and I'm writhing and pleading against the door in minutes. He's teasing my prostate with his fingers, making me see stars and moan out his name.  
"R, R, I'm ready" He draws his fingers out and I whine momentarily at the loss. He kisses my nose again reassuringly and covers himself in lube before dropping the bottle and using my hips as handles  
"Ok?"  
"More than ok" I whisper against his lips as I move in to kiss him and he move to slide inside me. R's pretty big, but he's done his work preparing me, so the burn is momentary, and once he's fully inside me, he breaks from the kiss, presses our cheeks together and rubs his thumbs on my hipbones  
"Still ok?  
"R, incredible. Wonderful. Magnificent" I gasp out, and he smiles as he breathes out heavily on my neck. Slowly, after a moment, he starts to move. I feel so complete, so full with R inside me and all around me, his hands running up and down my sides and his lips pressing careful kisses to mine as he starts to pick up the pace. His breathing grows unsteady and hot, and he starts to murmur my name into my skin when he's not occupying his lips with mine.  
My hands move from his shoulders to his hair, pulling lightly and grabbing more to hold onto when R growls, low and loud, into my collar bone. The rumbling noise vibrates on my skin and makes me arch my back with pleasure as he hits my prostate again at the same second. I gasp out Grantaire's name and hold him tighter, if possible. I wipe away some of the sweat beading along his forehead, and he kisses along my head to return the favour. When he kisses me again, it's salty sweet and intimate. His hips continue moving, hitting the exact right spot and causing me to cry out in pleasure, moving my hands down to his shoulders again to dig down deep. It must hurt, but R doesn't show it, infact his hips move faster forward, fucking me in earnest now. I duck my lips down to his neck and bite down, channelling all my feeling into him as he moans my name into my hair, moving my hips with his hands as well as his to change the angle slightly, nearly making me pass out. It's overwhelming now, the feeling of R, it's incredible. He feels like too much, but also just what I need, and I raise my head back to his to kiss him thoroughly. He hits my prostate several thrusts in a row and I cry out, painting white across his abdomen. He comes almost immediately after with a whisper of my name into my ear.  
We stay like that, connected, for a moment or two, then R eases out of me and I let my legs return to the ground. He looks totally fucked out, sweat pressing some curls to his forehead, his eyes still huge and black, but he's smiling at me in a genuine, precious way that I can't look away from. I wind my arms round his neck and pull him down for a kiss, pouring all of my feelings into it  
 _I love you. You're incredible. I want to be with you like this forever_  
I try to convey it in a kiss, try not to freak him out with my myriad of emotions. He seems to get it anyway, and kisses back with just as much emotion. When we pull away, he rests our foreheads together and runs his hands reverently across my cheekbones. I close my eyes at the touch and just feel R around me. We eventually separate, and I investigate the bathroom. It's got a bath with a shower bit, and I turn to R to suggest a bath, hoping it won't sound too cheesy, but I find him right next to my shoulder, and he must be able to read minds now because he smiles softly and moves across to turn the bath taps on. He kisses me softly again on his way past and puts on the kettle. God, I'm so fucked.


	13. Chapter 13 - Grantaire

In the morning, I stretch my arms out above my head and feel the sting of Enjolras' claw marks on my shoulders and the ache from the bite on my neck. It strikes me as the most ridiculously wonderful thing in the world that Enjolras is here, with me, that is wants me, that stinging and aching has never brought me more happiness, and I let out a soft laugh of joy. I bring my arms down and use them to pull Enjolras closer into me. He's fallen asleep halfway down my body with his arms tight around my waist, and when I settle my hands on one of his arms and on his back, he makes a happy noise in mis sleep and nuzzles my chest with his head, and I'm floored.  
I've been in love with Enjolras since I can remember. How could I not be? And here he is, soft and sleepy, naked in bed curled around me. I can't express how long I've wanted this. I can't put into words how much better the reality it compared to the fantasy. God, I love him.  
He yawns wide and stretches his arms long around me, and then looks up at me. He's still so precious having just woken up, and it takes a moment for a huge, gorgeous smile to work its way onto his face. He looks elated  
"I'm so glad you're here", and my grin splits my face  
"So am I"  
"With me" he adds, quieter, as if he's making sure  
"Yeah" I say, petting his hair softly. He moves into the touch and smiles softy  
"Grantaire?"  
"Yes?"  
"I'm happy" he grins at me, and I melt  
"I'm happy too, Enjolras" I pull him up and kiss him softly, still surprised and enraptured that I can do that  
"But I'd be _even_ happier if you'd make some coffee" he says when we part, grinning sheepishly. I laugh loudly and push him away to get up, but he wraps around my neck and kisses me again  
"Enjolras, if you want coffee, that involves me moving to make it"  
"Urgh, can't you stay kissing me **and** make coffee at the same time? It's so inconvenient of you to move" I laugh and pry his arms as he makes low noises of protestations. I walk over to click the kettle on and make to cups of coffe, and when I turn to walk back with them, he's eyeing me in a predatory manner and grinning wolfishly  
"Were you checking me out? How dare you" I feign a gasp and climb back into bed, passing Enjolras his coffee  
"None would blame me, a beautiful, naked man is making me coffee after fucking me into the door the night before" he says in a low voice, blowing on his coffee to cool it down. I press a quick kiss to his nose and blush brightly  
"You are beautiful, Grantaire" he repeats, noting the source of my embarrassment. I wave a hand at him and blush harder, unable to say anything. I've always been crap at taking compliments, and compliments from Enjolras? Forget it  
"Your eyes are stunning, they're so emotive and captivating, and you've got a really powerful jaw" he murmurs as he draws his hand across it "It's like it was hand-carved" I scoff quietly and Enjolras stares into my eyes "Your hair is so dark and silky and bouncy, it's wonderful" he says as he runs fingers into it softly from my hairline "And the column of your throat is so classic, it's lovely" his hand moves down and he brushes the back of it along my neck "And your lips" he whispers, and leans in to kiss me quickly "God, Grantaire, your lips. I'd write sonnets about them if I could write poetry. Perhaps I'll write my next congressional letter based on their shape, or their colour, or their feel" he's got a thumb resting on my bottom lip and I exhale heavily, shocked at his speech. He ends it with a long, lingering kiss, and says  
"You are so beautiful. The most beautiful man I've ever met" he says, and I just can't beathe anymore. I can't express my gratitude. I've always been a little self conscious about my looks, and to have _Enjolras_ tell me I'm beautiful is incredible.  
"Thank you" I whisper, and kiss his temple. He smiles softly back at me and we sit in silence for a bit, drinking coffee and smiling at each other.

Once we're out of our reverie, we get dressed reluctantly and get into the car.  
"One day more" I sing at him, grinning  
"I'd stay on the road with you a lot longer" Enjolras says, with a shy happy smile on his face. I kiss him again and start the car. We should be in San Fran by the evening, and Enjolras sends a few texts to let people know our ETA. The drive is easy today, the weather's gorgeous and we've set off early enough to see the sun warming up the landscape. Enjolras puts on Paul Simon and mouths the words silently. In an effort to encourage him, I start singing loudly and obnoxiously and Enjolras turns to me, laughing, and joins me. I love hearing Enj sing, he always looks so happy and carefree.  
After a while, he grabs his two remaining selected books from his bag and glances over at me. I'm whistling along to "My Baby Just Cares For Me" and feeling the wind in my hair with the window down but I turn to him when he starts speaking  
"I can't decide whether to start another book or not, we've only got a few hours left and I'll need something for the trip and the way back"  
"Something tells me you'll be occupied in San Fran", Enj cocks his eyebrow in curiosity and I roll my eyes  
"The wedding, Enjolras"  
"Ah, right, I thought... Never mind" he blushes high on his cheek and I'd love to ask what he thought I meant but he continues  
"Well, I guess I shouldn't start one just now, we can just talk." I nod in agreement "It's so lovely that you buy these books for us, it's like you know exactly what we'd love to read"  
"Who?" I ask, confused  
"The group, les amis, you get these books for us?" He looks confused now too, and I take off my sunglasses to look at him, trying to see if he's joking  
"Enj, I don't buy books for the group" I say, slowly  
"What do you mean? Does 'Chetta just give you them?"  
"Enjolras, I only get the books for **you** " I say, not intending the heavy emphasis on the last word, and feeling my cheeks heat up. I shove my glasses back on and hold onto the steering wheel  
"Grantaire" Enjolras breathes out at my side, and a hand comes over to cover one of mine  
"Thank you, I had no idea. I love them, they're always so perfect. It's like you know my taste in books better than I do"  
"I just kind of see them and think of you, it's not a big deal" I shrug, trying to brush it off as something smaller than it is  
"No, R," he waits until I look at him "It's incredibly thoughtful, and very, very appreciated. Thank you." His smile is so wide and generous I have to return it.  
We talk for a while after that, about the literary significance of road trips, about our jobs at the wedding, about work, about anything. All this knew information about my Enjolras is precious and invaluable.  
When we're talking about our favourite dog breeds, Enjolras spots a tiny road side diner and tugs at my sleeve like a toddler until I pull over. I smile indulgently at him and pull over. Just as we're getting out of the car, Enjolras' phone starts ringing, and it's Combeferre. He smiles apologetically and I sign an 'ok' signal and head inside to order coffee and food. I'm pretty familiar with Enj's orders by now, so it's not an issue.

The food comes quickly, which I'm grateful for, but Enj is still outside. I put milk and sugar in his coffee and step outside to call him in.  
He's turned away from me and is in a pretty defensive position, his shoulders hunched and the arm not holding the phone is curled around his waist, closing him off. I don't mean to, but I hear what he's saying  
"Ferre, you're not being fair. Just because I've not laid everything out for him in a contract or something doesn't mean- Ferre!" Enjolras throws an arm up in exasperation and I tense up a little, ridiculously defensive of him already  
"Ferre, you're being unreasonable. I am _not_ taking advantage of R" I feel rooted to the spot. So _I'm_ the topic of conversation. I'm tensing up further now, expecting the worst  
"R doesn't see it like that. Yes, obviously, the sex is great." I smile a little despite myself, he's not wrong  
"I don't really see an issue with it. No one's going to get hurt, it's just sex. We're consenting adults, Ferre, there's nothing wrong with no strings attached, could you stop being so judgemental for like, one second"  
My heart sinks. I turn on my heel and walk inside, grab my coffee, and down it. Well, fuck. I feel winded. I can't believe I thought, even for a moment, that Enjolras would want to be with me. I can't really blame him for thinking I'd be fine with a friends with benefits situation, I mean, I'm not exactly known for my long-term committments, but in fairness, that's because I can't really see myself with anyone but Enj. I go up to the counter and get some more coffee, slam it down on the table and have to head into the bathroom the second I see Enjolras coming inside.  
I can't help but feel this was a little unfair. Surely Enjolras knows I'm head-over-heels in love with him, how could he not? And he's been so affection, so sweet. I feel like there should be rules against that. I splash cold water on my face to stop myself from crying, because fucking pull it together, R, you still have like 4 more hours alone in a car with this guy. With him smiling and laughing and touching me. Fuck. I gulp in air and have to splash my face again. I realise I have to call someone, and I think of calling one of those lines I call when I'm panicking, but this feels like more of a friend situation. I find Courf's contact and press it too hard, dart through the diner to outside, and sit on the ground a distance away from the door. Courf picks up on the thrid ring while I'm swearing at the phone and sounds far too cheerful. I remember that he's in San Fran with family getting ready for his wedding in a few days, and I feel guilty for calling for my own reasons.  
"Hiiiiii R! How are you?" He's like a smile personified. I clear my throat to try to sound normal and decide I'm being selfish, and the only thing Courf should be thinking about it Combeferre, and how great their wedding is going to be  
"Hey Courf, just calling to let you know we're about 4 hours out, just stopping for some food, we'll see you soon" I spit out, as fast as I can, then I hang up. I must sound like a lunatic.  
I open one of the breathing apps on my phone and do a short exercise, calm myself down, and head back inside. Courf tries to call back but I hang up and put the phone on silent. I don't want to have to explain myself. Courfeyrac has a bad habit of making me tell the truth. I put on my game face and open the door.  
Enjolras looks up at me, concern etched on his face. He stands up and steps towards me  
"Are you ok? You look a little upset" he says, and reaches out to touch my face. I flinch back minutely without thinking about it and he instantly withdraws his hand, looking hurt. I feel a pang of pain and a stab of guilt and I slide into my seat and drink half of my coffee in one. Enjolras says nothing and sits down across from me. He eats silently for a while and I can feel him staring at me. I push my food around on the plate with my fork, suddenly having lost my appetite. He coughs quietly and tries again  
"Thank you for ordering a cheese toastie and soup for me, you always seem to know what to order" he says quietly, with a careful smile. I look up at him and nearly burst into tears, so I grab my coffee, finish it, and head up to get some more. Enjolras grabs my wrist and stares at me, imploringly  
"R," He says, low, quiet "Please, talk to me, are you ok?" I take his hand, and he looks calmer for a moment, and then I remove it from my wrist and walk over to the counter. I do feel guilty, because he's trying, but I can't handle this. I can't handle him being so sweet and thoughtful and lovable. So goddamn lovable. I should never have kissed him back. I shouldn't have deluded myself that this meant anything more. The waitress refills my coffee and shoots me a concerned look  
"Are you ok, sweetie? Do I need to call someone?" She says quietly, eyeing Enjolras. I shake my head and thank her, and turn back to walk to Enjolras. He looks quite upset, and I can't really figure out why. He shouldn't be expecting me to givehim everything a relationship entails without the relationship. I'm not the one in the wrong here. Why the hell do I feel so shitty about this?  
I get back to the table and Enjolras looks up at me, confusion and distress clear in his face. I glance down at his coffee, for anything to look at, and see that it's empty. I pick it up and take it to be refilled too, and when I bring it back to the table, I fill our coffees with milk and sugar, and sugar, respectively. I pass Enjolras his and he looks more confused than ever. We drink our coffee in silence, pay, and head out to the car.  
I drive as fast as I can the rest of the way there, and I turn the music up loud enough so Enjolras knows it's not talking time. I've put on Adelle because I'm a fucking cliché, and I hang my head part of the way out the window to get the wind running through my hair, calming me down and giving me an innocent explanation for the tears threatening to fall again.  
When we get to the hotel, I park and we get out, grab our bags, and head to the lobby together but in silence. I give my reservation number first, grab my key, and get the lift upstairs.  
I've just gotten into my room, dumped my bag, and flicked the kettle on, pleased to see coffee and sugar in the room because I left ours with Enj, when I hear a loud, demanding knock on the door. Grumbling and getting up from the comfy chair next to my open window, I cross the room and open the door.  
Enjolras is standing in front of me, and he looks somewhere between enraged and desperate. He throws his bag and his key on the floor and steps past me, into the room. The kettle boils, and he makes two coffees. He leaves them on the table and turns to me. His face is stern and set, and I shrink a little, because it's his crowd taming face  
"What **the fuck** is going on with you" he spits out, low and dangerous. I don't know what the fuck he has to be angry about, and that's when I snap  
"What the fuck is going on with me? Do you want to know, Enjolras?" He nods vigorously, still looking irate "Well, let's see, I thought I was having some kind of incredible, near-religious experience, living the dream, finally getting to be with the _love of my life_ , but it turns out I was wrong, as per FUCKING usual. Because who _the fuck_ would want to be with me anyway? Hmm? Certainly not you, Enjolras, since I heard you basically tell Combeferre I'm just a quick fuck to you. You CAN'T DO THAT TO PEOPLE. **You can't do that to me.** I'm your friend Enjolras, and God help me I'm in love with you, so you cannot do that to me. This is not fair, it's fucking cruel, and I thought you were better than this. I thought you knew me better than thinking I would be ok with this." I take in a heavy breath and step back, opening the door  
"I can't be your no-strings-attached, Enjolras. Now please leave and let me lick my wounds in privacy" I feel hollow, humiliated. He's never going to talk to me again, but maybe that's ok for now, since every word causes me physical pain because I can't have him the way I want.  
Enjolras doesn't move, and I raise my head slowly to look at him, and he looks horrified. That's about right, I think, no surprises.  
His mouth is agape, and he'd look ridiculous if he weren't so fucking beautiful. Damn him.  
He steps towards me, very slowly, very cautiously  
"Enjolras" I warn, growling his name quietly intot he space between us. He reaches a hand up to touch my face and I can't help but move into it. I feel utterly defeated. Do with me what you will, it's not like I could refure you anything, I think. He stares at me for a few heavy moments and then whispers  
"You love me?" And it crushes me. I nod minutely and can't help a tear that falls, landing on his hand. He raises it to brush my eyes dry, and settles it again, cupping my jaw. He applies pressure, forcing me to look into his eyes, which are wide and full of emotion  
"Grantaire" he breathes out, and presses his lips to mine. I keep my eyes open as he closes his, staring at him, trying to figure him out  
"Grantaire" he repeats "I love you, too" he whispers, still staring into my eyes.   
It takes me a moment to realise what he's saying, what he means, and when I do, I laugh through tears and pull him into a hug, holding him far too tightly. Enjolras laughs against my neck, warm and open and happy, and I cry happily into his hair  
"I love you, I love you, I love you" I say, over and over, pulling him back again to face me, framing his face with my hands and running my thumb over his bottom lip  
"I love you so much, Enjolras. You have no idea, I adore you" He smiles widely at me and speaks, a little garbled with my thumb over his lip  
"God, Grantaire, I love you more than I have any way of expressing" He kisses my thumb to punctuate this, and I use my hands to pull him into a fierce kiss. I have no idea how long we stand there, just kissing, it could be minutes or hours or days, I don't care. I could do this forever. His hands around my waist tug my in slightly and he walks his feet back until we fall onto the bed together and he kisses my neck while we lie there, just breathing each other in. I press my hands to the bed either side of his head and lift myself up to look at him. He kisses me gently and pulls back,   
"R, will you make love to me?" He murmurs, quiet and shy and so, so precious  
"Enjolras" I breathe, nodding and kissing him, pouring everything I can't articulate into this kiss, hoping he understands. That he understands how strongly I feel for him, how I've never loved anyone like him, and never could again, how I will always worship and adore him, how he has my heart, always, unconditionally.  
"Grantaire" he says when we pull back, and he sounds so emotional, so awe-struck "Grantaire, I am so in love with you. You inspire me, you help me, you support me. I have never met anyone like you and doubt I ever will, because you are so unique and perfect and wonderful." He kisses my cheek "I am so undeserving of your love" he kisses the other cheek and I shake my head, but he continues "I swear to you, R, I promise, I will do everything, anything, to be worthy of you" he kisses my nose and my forehead "To be worthy of loving you, to be worthy of your love" he kisses my jaw and looks into my eyes again  
"I love you without condition, or constriction, or caution, I love you without thinking, because it is so integral to me now. You are so much a part of who I am, Grantaire, that I could never not love you, and I am so, so glad" he kisses my lips lightly  
"Because loving you is the best thing that has ever happened to me" he finishes, and pulls me headlong into the most intense kiss of my life.

This time, everything moves more slowly, every movement feels so intense, every caress shakes me to my core, every kiss a breath of life. Our clothes slide off slowly, carefully, every touch is treasured.  
Enjolras presses tiny, reverent kisses down the column of my neck as his hands move slowly down my chest to my belt, breaking away to look into my eyes  
"Is this ok?" he asks, and his concern for my feelings is so heartwarming, my smile grows as I nod and kiss him again. He carefully pushes my jeans down my legs and I do the same to his. We stay for a while, just in our boxers, warm and happy and just reveling in every kiss and touch, every sound and sigh and movement.   
Enjolras pulls back and quirks an eyebrow, and I lift off him to grab lube from my bag, where I'd put it after the diner disaster. When I've got it, I stop to look at him.  
He's spread out on my bed, his chest upwards is flushed, and he's staring at me with a look of such open happiness I can't help it  
"God, I am so in love with you. You are incredible." I say, as I move over to him again, and he reaches out for me and meets me in a kiss. My hands reach his waist and work down to his boxers, pulling back to check he's ok. I press him back into the sheets and he lays down obediantly, silently.  
I move down his body and drop the lube for the moment. My hands rest on his hips, feeling the heat of his body through the thin red material. I tense my fingers as I decide where to start, and then duck my head to press small, light kisses high on his thighs. I press his hipbones firmly through the material and press heavier kisses as I work my way up to the line of wis waistband, pressing kisses through the material of his boxers.  
I can trace the line of his cock with my eyes, and there's an enticing spot of dampness where his precum has marked the material slightly. I mouth along the strogn line and press an open-mouthed kiss to the dark area. Enjolras jumps slightly underneath me, and I smile as I hook my fingers into his waistband and slide the material down, down, down, very slowly. He whimpers slightly as it drags slowly along his cock, and sighs when he's totally naked at last. I take another moment to take him in, commit him to memory, and then I press a delicate kiss to the end of his cock, and nestle my nose in the bed of hair at the base, breathing in his sweet musky scent. He's breathing heavily now, and a hand has come to sift lightly through my hair.  
I press kisses down his shaft and another at the tip, this time teasing with my tongue, running it round the head and dipping it into the slit. He murmurs my name and I duck my head slightly to lick a long, heavy stripe from the base to the tip and back, and Enjolras wriggles slightly. I return one hand to his hipbone, and one wanders between his legs and trces a line up the centre of his balls as I return my lips to the head of his cock. I roll his balls in my hand and slowly swallow him as he gasps and pants under my ministrations. I bob down again and suck on my way back up, and as I'm doing so I click open the forgotten lube and pour some on my hand. I'm good at multitasking. I'm good at this.  
When I bob down again and run my tongue along him while he's still in my mouth, I run a finger round his rim, and he nearly jumps off the bed. I'd laugh if I weren't pulling slowly off his cock again, only to plunge back down. Thank god I've got a hand holding his hips down.  
I tease the rim for a minute or two, warming him up as I work his cock with my mouth, until he's whimpering, begging. His precum is salty on my tongue and I figure I'd better be kind. I work a finger inside of him and he sighs heavily. I press small kisses along his cock again, trying not to get him too worked up. I've got three fingers in him soon enough, curling and teasing that spot inside him, and my lips are dragging slowly along his cock when he whimpers out my name again  
"Grantaaaaiiire, please, please I'm ready, pleassee." I love hearing him beg, it's delicious. I come off him with a pop and smile at him, pulling my fingers out slowly and rising up to be eye level with him.  
His hands are shaking slightly when they come to rest on the waistband of my boxers, sliding them off and tossing them across the room. He pulls me in for a slow, depp kiss, and it's emotional and perfect. This kiss is long and languid and carefree, and when I pull back, Enjolras is smiling wide, ecstatic. I know how he feels.  
He reaches forward and pours lube onto his hands, and rubs it along my cock. When he's done, I line myself up and he hooks one leg around my waist and swings one over my shoulder. I feel incredibly warm and safe, held her in between his thighs, and I lean in to kiss him lightly, and whisper  
"I love you" again, hearing him respond as I press in slowly, carefully.  
Being inside Enjolras feels like coming home. He's so warm and tight and right, and I've never felt more in love or more loved than right now. I brace my hands on either side of his head and just look at him for a moment, gathering my self control and trying to just be here, in this moment, with the love of my life wrapped around me. I press a kiss under his jaw and begin to move, slowly. It's a sweet agony, being with Enjolras like this. I'm focusing all my energy on staying slow, keping my thrusts light and careful, trying not to be overwhelmed by the way Enjolras raises his hips to meet mine, the way his hands curl tightly on my biceps, the sweat beading along his forehead, the look of supreme pleasure plastered on his face. I want Enjolras to feel incredible, I want him to feel the way he makes me feel.  
He digs his heel into my back as a silent encouragement, and I press into him harder, not speeding my thrusts up, but increasing the intensity. I don't want to rush this, this moment with Enjolras. He kisses me again, long and sweet, and breathes hard into my mouth. He kisses the corner of my mouth and presses my head into the crook of his neck, murmuring a stream of my name and love confessions into my ear that nearly melt me into the pillows.   
I focus hard on pushing into Enjolras at the right angle, tilting his hips up and changing our position slightly, and smile in triumph when he gasps out my name and his hands tighten on my shoulders. I kiss him deep and continue thrusting into him, picking up speed slightly and driving harder. He cries out into my mouth and I moan back, feeling that familiar tingling sensation climbing down my spine, the heat knotting in my abdomen. I pull Enjolras tighter, his heel digging harder into me, his fingers digging more emphatically into my skin, and continue pushing into him. I open my eyes, still kissing him, and find that he's opened his too. This is a new layer, a new kind of intensity, and it's suddenly all too much, and I cry out Enjolras' name and come harder than I can ever remember coming. I feel Enjolras' muscles spasming around me as I do, and hear him choke out a sob-like sound and we both collapse onto the bed, our bodies sweat-slicked and knotted together. I slide out reluctantly and kiss Enjolras' forehead before lying back on the bed and pulling him to my chest.  
"I love you"  
"I love you too"


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end! Just a wee wrap up to tie it off!  
> Thank you for reading, your comments have all been so cute a supportive!
> 
> Madeleine x

Combeferre and Courfeyrac's wedding is moving, beautiful, and bizarre at times, like the couple themselves. They both look radiant and elated, and the hall is filled with sniffles and smiles as they exchange individually written vows and make their life-long promises to each other.  
On either side of the stage, standing behind their respective best friends, Enjolras and Grantaire can't take their eyes off each other longer than the time required to perform their duties and watch their friends embark on the rest of their lives. The exchange smiles and their eyes sparkle as they stare at each other, through the ceremony, through the officiant's speech of cherishing and adoring the one you love, and Enjolras and Grantaire nod solemnly at each other, promising silently to be good to each other in love.  
It's a gorgeous ceremony, and when the crowd pours out, they head into a dining area with a large dance space.  
After a lovely meal, and speeches which move they attendees through ranges of emotions, from tears to laughter in seconds, the band climbs on stage and announcement the first dance. "Kissing You" is played as Combeferre and Courfeyrac hold each other close and dance, murmuring quietly to each other and exchanging kisses, grins threatening to split their faces. When the grooms invite their guests to dance after the song ends, Grantaire stands up and offers his hand to Enjolras grandly  
"May I have this dance?" Enjolras giggles and accepts R's hand  
"You may"  
R pulls him up and into his arms and dances them backwards into the growing crowd. His dancing proficiency is soon evident as he maneuvres himself and Enjolras delicately, his footwork impeccable and the spins and dips he treats Enjolras to make Enj feel like he's floating. Eventually, R rests his hands around Enj's waist and Enj wraps his around his boyfriend's neck. They sway lightly and smile at each other, basking in the warm glow of affection and happiness  
"Your speech was wonderful, R, I cried"  
"You've heard me practise it a million times!" R says through a soft laugh, his chest rumbling against Enjolras  
"But it was wonderful, you delivered it beautifully" Enjolras repeats, adding a kiss on the end  
"Yours was lovely too, Enj" R says, pulling Enjolras closer and pressing their cheeks together as they sway. They stay quiet and content in each other's arms for another song or two and the Enjolras pulls back to kiss R, a more lingering kiss this time, and says  
"R, I love you"  
"And my heart is yours."

They dance for hours, and swap partners occassionally with their friends, they chat and eat cake and all in all it's an exceptional night for everyone there, and the grooms in particular. Enjolras and Grantaire eventually decide to call it a night as they sway close together, exchanging heady kisses helped along by an air of romance and a few glasses of champagne. On their way back to the hotel, Enjolras stops Grantaire, grabs both of his hands, and kissing him softly  
"Grantaire"  
"Enjolras"  
And in unison, they whisper "I love you".

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys this is the most ridiculous thing in the world but I was on a road trip across Scotland and I just couldn't resist.  
> Enjoy!


End file.
